


I Thee Wed

by just_another_classic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eloping, F/M, Protective Siblings, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-18 21:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 62,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_classic/pseuds/just_another_classic
Summary: Once upon a time, Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian Jones stole away into the dark of the night to elope. In the morning light, however, they must face the repercussions of their actions before they can live their "happily ever after." This is where their story begins...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my contribution to the Captain Swan Big Bang. For the past six months, I have been working diligently on this tale, and now sixteen chapters and 60,000+ words later, this story is complete! 
> 
> First and foremost, though I wrote this story, I couldn't do it alone. Many, many thanks go out to @wexyuk for her fabulous beta efforts. Shoutout to everyone in the group chat for listening to me whine, and encouraging me along the way. Finally, head on over to my tumblr to check out fabulous art by #just-be-magnificent and @piratesrumforswan. 
> 
> This story is 100% complete, and updates will be every Wednesday and Sunday through mid-October.

The sun had long since disappeared, the reds, purples, and oranges of the sunset fading into black. Not a cloud was in the sky, and when Killian looks upward, he could see the stars staring down at him, glistening in the darkness. As he passed the time, he traced the constellations; he was a sailor and knew them all – _Cassiopeia, Ursa Major, Cygnus_ – and he took great comfort in their familiarity, even as his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.  
  
The night air was cool. Summer had quickly faded into fall, and Killian wished that circumstances had allowed him to wear the thick wool coat of his naval uniform, but he knew the high collar and golden buttons would stand out in a crowd. As his goal was to be inconspicuous as possible, he had to settle for a borrowed jacket that wasn’t nearly warm enough.  
  
_Oh well,_ he thought, _the discomfort will surely be worth it_.  
  
Assuming everything went to plan, of course. And that was a large assumption, one that had him shaking in his boots.

He knew Emma loved him. He simply wasn’t a distraction to her, a warm body to pass the time with or a personal rebellion against propriety. They were committed to one another. She would come, or at the very least she would do her best to come. She wouldn’t change her mind.  
  
With a sigh, Killian bent down to pick up flower – Middlemist, Emma had called them – and he picked at the petals. The entire clearing was full of them, these Middlemist flowers. Emma had once explained to him, as she weaved a crown of flowers to replace her one of gold, that they were native to Camelot, and had been gifted to her kingdom by a grateful queen and her loyal knight.  
  
“Theirs is a love story for the ages,” she had told him, smiling wistfully as she recalled the tale of how her parents had freed the so-called broken kingdom from an enchantment placed upon them by an obsessive king. “Lancelot never once gave up on Guinevere, even after she was spellbound and had banished him from their kingdom. He always stayed true and believed in their love, did you know that?”  
  
Killian had told her he did not, reminding her that he was a lowly lieutenant who knew very little of the affairs of other kingdoms. What he knew came from what he read, and he had never read of the intricacies of their tale – simply that a knight had loved a queen, and that with the help of King David and Queen Snow **,** had saved a kingdom and won back the heart of his love.  
  
As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to that afternoon in this very field. That day had been the first time that Emma had kissed him, her lips soft and sweet against his own. It had been a chaste thing, but special. It had made him feel special, special enough that he forsook all propriety and the vows he made to the kingdom just so he could kiss her again, and to never stop kissing her.  
  
If things went according to plan, he would have that chance for the rest of his life.  
  
He had given her a ring. It was a simple thing, unlike any of the jewels she normally wore, but it had belonged to his mother. He’d felt foolish when he first considered giving it to her – she was a princess and he was, well, nothing. He’d steeled himself for heartbreak before he even dropped to his knees, believing that she’d laugh in his face. They had discussed their devotion to one another, declared their love, but marriage was an altogether different matter. Emma had expectations placed upon her to marry well and produce heirs. Killian was not an ideal match for the former, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about the latter. But he loved her, and a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.  
  
So, dressed in his finest uniform, he’d dropped to his knees and asked for her hand in marriage. He’d been terrified, completely and madly in love, but terrified and –

She’d said yes. With tears in her eyes, she’d said yes, kneeling down to kiss him once, twice, three times. She had wanted to be his wife, build a life together, and Killian Jones had never been happier. And so now he waited in a clearing of Middlemist flowers for his bride-to-be. Their plan was to elope.

“There’s no way anyone would be able to interfere,” Emma had explained. She was worried what members of her family’s court would say if she had simply announced they were engaged, especially since their courtship had been kept a secret. “My parents will be angry, of course, but it’s not like they can do anything once we’re married. It’s too sacred.”  
  
Killian hoped she was right. He knew their secrecy wouldn’t set him off on the right foot with her parents, but hopefully they’d give him the chance to explain. Emma had told him once that they married in secret – true, it had been with her grandmother present – but it was a secret to the rest of the kingdom. Surely they would understand. And if they didn’t, he'd do his best to prove to them the devotion and love he felt toward their daughter.

He thought back to Emma’s earlier tale about Guinevere and Lancelot, a couple who seemingly faced impossible odds yet still managed to find one another in the end. Even Emma’s parents overcame obstacles, and Emma was proof that True Love could conquer all. Yes, the two of them would be fine. They had to be.

Killian was startled from his thoughts by a rustling in the trees. Out of instinct, he moved to draw his sword, but came up empty. As with the rest of his Naval regalia, he forewent the sword, as well. He steeled himself for whatever was coming – Emma, a guard, bandits – and silently prayed to whatever god might be listening to take pity on his poor soul.

The gods must have smiled down on him, for it was Emma who hurried through the trees. As she approached him, the moonlight made her appear otherworldly, the effect made greater by the radiant smile she wore. She was dressed in drab clothing, stolen from her maids, no doubt. Even dressed as a commoner, and not in the fine silks and beads becoming of a princess, she looked beautiful, causing his heart to stutter in adoration.

“You’re here,” he breathed, and at the sound of his voice she ran to him. Or him to her, Killian wasn’t quite sure, not that he particularly cared. He contented himself with sweeping her into his arms and spinning her around while she laughed and peppered his cheeks with kisses.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here,” she said once he sat her down. She twined their fingers together, and Killian found pleasure in the cool press of her ring against his skin. “Now, Lieutenant, are we going to get married or not?”

“Aye, love, we are,” he replied, unable to keep the awe out his voice. And why should he? He was a man in love, and about to swear before the gods that he’ll be hers forever. “Shall we get going?”  
  
He didn’t think it possible, but her smile bloomed into something wider and even more beautiful. “We shall.”  
  
They kissed once more, passion coursing through their veins, before they broke apart. Fingers still twined together, they raced out of the Middlemist grove and toward their future. Killian could hardly imagine ever being happier.

-/-  
  
Emma awoke feeling somewhat sore, but not all too different than the night before. The nervousness of potentially being caught had subsided the moment Killian slid his mother’s ring on her finger, and the sleepy Friar Laurence named them man and wife. Giddiness had then taken over and had yet to ebb away hours later.  
  
Unbidden, she felt her lips curve into a smile as her mind replayed the events from the night previous night. Killian had arranged to meet the friar at an inn not too far from the castle. If the friar recognized her, he did not say, but went about the ritual and words of marrying a man and woman. She and Killian exchanged vows, kissed, and suddenly, it was over. They were wed.

It was all so very different to the wedding she, or rather her mother, had often envisioned. Royal weddings were days long affairs, with balls and receiving lines, ornate gowns, and dozens of members of the wedding party. Men and women would come from all over the kingdom, and other kingdoms as well, to see her wed. So the fact that Emma had married a Naval Lieutenant under a tree not far from a nondescript inn was considered quite the departure.

She hoped her parents wouldn’t be too terribly upset. They would be, of course. It would be woefully naïve of her to think that her actions wouldn’t hurt them in some way. Her mother had always dreamed of a royal wedding, and it wasn’t as if Leo was going to have one anytime soon. But they would understand. They had to. All her life Emma had heard about the importance of True Love. They’d even agreed to not arrange a marriage for her, they were so committed. Of course, they’d likely always envisioned her marrying a prince. Her father surely kept nudging her toward on the sons of the Southern Isles, or Prince Adam from a neighboring kingdom. Killian, a former slave and member of the Royal Navy, would never have crossed their mind.  
  
It was partially why she had fallen in love with her sailor. There was something so inherently honest about him, so freeing. He wasn’t shackled by the constraints of royalty, but had a perspective on things which she had never considered. He challenged her, which she respected. Too often, her potential suitors would demure to her opinion, or worse, ignore it completely. Killian wanted to know why she believed in the policies she did – everything from military strategy to taxes to why the kingdom had the balls when it did. It was intriguing, fun, and to Emma’s belief, she thought it would someday make her a better Queen. Isn’t that what her parents wanted?

So, yes, they would be angry at first. Hurt. Furious, even, but they would come along, because she and Killian loved one another. She was sure their love was even True, despite being in no hurry to test it either way.  
  
Emma rolled over in the bed, the sheets somewhat itchy against her naked skin. There were not at all like the sheets in her bedchamber. Emma didn’t mind too much. An uncomfortable bed in an inn a night’s ride away from the castle was worth it for this – to wake up next to her husband the morning after their wedding. Her husband!  
  
It was strange to think that she was now married. Growing up, she had often wondered if she would feel any different, be any different, once she became a wife. Would marriage bring a newfound maturity? Emma supposed she hadn’t been married long enough to find out. She was eager to learn more, however, about just what their marriage would entail. Her parents often described their own marriage as a great adventure, and Emma was ready to take one of her own with Killian.  
  
Killian was still asleep. He had often boasted that he rose with the sun, but this morning it seemed nothing more than empty words. Of course, the previous night had likely not been like other nights before. It had been their wedding, after all.  
  
Emma knew that prior to their courtship, he had lain with other women. It didn’t bother her, as she knew most men took women into their bed, even the royal ones. It honestly was a dreadful double standard. Royal women were expected to remain virginal for their future husbands, while men could go whore about without any repercussions. (Though, she supposed bastards were always a possibility, but they still burdened the mothers more than fathers.)  
  
She and Killian had once fought over it – his refusal to truly bed her. Considering their differences in stations, they truly could have been repercussions for him if caught in the princesses bed, or if she had fallen with child. Not that she had considered those things at the time. It had hurt her, not because he seemingly didn’t want her body – it was physically obvious that he did – but because it felt as if he thought she belonged to someone else.  
  
And, well, the only person she belonged to was herself, thank you very much.  
  
But even so, he had a point about the risks, and eventually she accepted that. They did learn to love one another with their hands and mouths, a somewhat amenable – and pleasurable – compromise. There was no risk of bastards with that, at the very least, though he still could have been hung if they had been caught. Not that she would let him be. She’d fight tooth and nail to protect him, and since she was the Crown Princess, she usually got what she wanted.  
  
She had finally gotten what she had wanted the night before, coming together not once, but thrice as man and wife. Her body ached, but it was worth the pleasure. “I can’t believe you kept this from me,” she had exclaimed after the first round of lovemaking, as they lay sweating on the bed. He had laughed heartily, and promised to never keep it from her again.  
  
Now that she was awake, she definitely wanted it again.  
  
Emma knew that they would have to extricate themselves from the bed at some point, and return to the castle, but it didn’t have to be immediately. There was just the matter of him sleeping.  
  
He looked so much younger in sleep, so much more at peace. Of course, the past few days it seemed like there was a perpetual furrow in his brow as they attempted to sort out their marriage plot. But he was relaxed now, happy, or so she hoped.

Killian was incredibly handsome. His hair was dark, and his beard was trimmed to an artful scruff – one that felt delightful between her thighs! Though they were currently closed, when awake his eyes were a brilliant shade of blue. It was one of the first things she had noticed when she met him – his eyes. They were kind, thoughtful, and in other situations, delightfully wicked.

Emma curled closer to the man sleeping by her side, and rest her cheek against his bare chest, admiring the dark hair gathered there. Her hand dipped under the blankets, tracing the hair down his abdomen, and even further still, until she could feel him come to life under her ministrations.

This she knew how to do, and how to do it well. Though he had taken her – or she him, Emma was hardly certain – for the first time on their wedding night, there had been plenty of trysts prior. Then she had learned the perfect way to circle and stroke, and even better, just how he liked her to use her mouth. _That_ had felt especially scandalous – an unmarried princess with a man’s cock in her mouth – but every time she did it he made the most wonderful noises, and tugged on her hair just so.  
  
He was beginning to make those noises now, tiny little moans and gasps as she roused him from his sleep. “Good morning, Killian.”  
  
As he came to, he flexed his hips upward, seeking more friction. She giggled at his eagerness, and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning, indeed,” he replied, his voice still slurred with sleep. He surprised her then by stilling her hand, and moving it from his cock to instead lace with his own. “Did you sleep well, love?”

“Of course. How could I not with my husband beside me?” She asked coquettishly. She felt silly speaking in a way that she would normally mock, but the giddiness of her marriage had overtaken her. She was married! Married to Killian Jones, and he was here beside her, delightfully naked in bed. “You seemed to have slept well.”  
  
“Aye, I had the most delightful of princesses wear me out.” His eyebrows danced at his innuendo causing her to laugh. He pulled her closer then, her laugh morphing into a moan as he pulled her into a deep kiss. They stayed that way for awhile, lips sliding and tongues dueling, until Killian pulled away. There was a wicked gleam in his eyes as he asked, “She could try to tire me out again, if she so desires.”  
  
“She desires,” Emma answered matter-of-factly before kissing him again. After all, that was what she had been after when she roused him from his slumber. No sooner did she reply than Killian rolled her onto her back, and covered her body with his own. She could feel his arousal pressing into her stomach, and that only made her want him more. He had a nice cock, not that she was an expert on them, and she enjoyed the press of it against her.  
  
He was quite good at this – making her feel desired and fulfilled. He knew just how to tweak her breasts, the perfect places to bite, and all the many ways he could get her to arch against him. Though she had brought herself to orgasm before through her own private explorations, she’d been shocked at how pleasurable it could be to fall apart under a man’s tongue or fingers. Those were lessons she had never been taught – not by her mother, nor from her scandalous Aunt Red. And now that she knew how it felt to shatter around a man’s cock, Emma wanted to make the most of her opportunities.  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed like her latest opportunity was about to be cut short. No sooner was his mouth on her breast and his fingers skirting her folds were they interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” Killian mouthed against her breast, and Emma couldn’t find it in herself to argue. Surely, whomever was knocking was looking for someone else. She and Killian had paid through the evening, so it wouldn’t be the innkeeper.   
  
_Oh well, they’ll go away soon enough,_ she thought.  
  
Unfortunately, the stranger on the other side of the wall did not go away. Instead, whomever it was outside proceeded to knock with increased vigor.

“Bloody hell,” she heard Killian sigh, but he made no move to answer, and neither did she. Emma was perfectly happy in this cocoon they’d made, and she didn’t want to disturb it or this little world they’d created that was just the two of them, man and wife, Killian and Emma. “That bloody arse will get the idea soon enough.”  
  
Except that “bloody arse” did not get the idea. Instead of leaving, he spoke, and once she heard his voice, Emma knew he wouldn’t be going anywhere until either she or Killian opening the door. “Emma, I know you’re in there.”  
  
“Leo,” Emma gasped as Killian tensed above her.  
  
It was Leo on the other side of the door. Leo, her brother. Leo, her brother who caught her sneaking out of the castle, whom she begged not to reveal her whereabouts. Emma felt a knot of worry developing in her gut. If Leo was here, it meant he wasn’t at the castle. And it he wasn’t at the castle…

“Emma, open up. _Please_.”  
  
Her mind spinning, she pushed Killian off of her. “Emma, what in the seven hells – “

But she did not answer, searching the room for clothing. Her dress, though simple, would be too complicated for her to redress quickly, so she settled for Killian’s shirt. Emma knew she must look downright scandalous – hair a mess and wearing nothing but a man’s shirt – and Emma hoped that Leo was alone, that he wasn’t flanked by guards, or worse, their parents.  
  
With a warning glance to Killian, who had made an effort to pull on his trousers, Emma took a deep breath and opened the door. Standing on the other side was Leo, thankfully alone, although his expression was grim.

“Hey there, Big Sis, congratulations on your wedding,” he greeted. He seemed to attempt to smile, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Unfortunately, your new husband is soon to be arrested. I hope you had a wonderful night, because you might not be seeing each other for a while.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I'm completely blown away by the response to the last chapter! It makes me even more grateful to sambethe for convincing me to sign up for the CSBB, and for wexyuk for providing her amazing beta services! Once again, be sure to check out fabulous art by @just-be-magnificent and @piratesrumforswan . They'll be posting periodically for various chapters!

Prince Leopold of Misthaven lived a rather charmed life – fitting for the son of a man once nicknamed “Charming”. As the “spare” part of the “heir, plus a spare” equation, Leo, as he was called, considered himself quite lucky. He was able to relish in the luxuries provided by his royal status, but he lacked many of the associated responsibilities. As a result, he could do what he wanted (within reason) without many of the stresses of living in the gilded cage that was the castle.

“I could die, you know,” his sister, the heir, had told him once.  
  
To which he replied, “Please, you would crawl yourself out from the depths of the Underworld to prevent me from being king.”

She’d laughed and agreed.  
  
Leo was grateful for Emma, and not simply because her being the heir kept him from inheriting the throne. She was funny and, as older siblings ought to do, she protected him. Once when he was a lad, he’d angered a bevy of swans, and she’d managed to scare them away. He had always felt like he could trust even with his deepest of secrets.  
  
So when he caught Emma sneaking out to elope with a commoner, it was the least he could do to keep one for her.  
  
While it initially hurt to know that she had been keeping a secret engagement from him, from everyone really, Leo couldn’t deny the obfuscation impressed him. Emma, being the heir and all, rarely rebelled in such a manner. Sure, she skirted the rulebook a few times, but nothing on this level. Besides, though he was only eighteen, he could appreciate Emma doing whatever it takes in the name of forbidden love.

It honestly made him revere his big sister a bit more.  
  
After he helped Emma escape – because that is what loyal younger brothers did – Leo had planned to simply go to his room to slumber. It wasn’t as if anyone would go looking for Emma, and if they asked where she was in the morning, he figured he could concoct some story about her taking a visit to the village. Unfortunately, he had been woefully wrong, and someone had gone looking for Emma – their mother.  
  
Their mother was normally a reasonable woman, but an incident with the now-defeated Evil Queen during Emma’s infancy has resulted in a level of caution – _paranoia_ , some might say – surrounding her children. Over the years, their mother had been plagued by the occasional nightmare that would drive her from her bed to check on her children, ensuring they were safe, sound, and asleep in their own beds. Leo didn’t know how often these dreams occurred, just that they did, and he slept through her quick visits nearly every time.  
  
Unfortunately, Queen Snow had one of her dreams the night of Emma’s “escape” from the castle, creating the chain of events that led him here: standing directly in front of his barely clothed sister and supposed brother-in-law, delivering the news that their nuptials were very well at stake.

“Arrested? Why would they arrest him?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms over chest. She wasn’t letting him in, which Leo thought was a terrible decision, as any argument they could have in the hallway might rouse anyone else in the inn, drawing an audience that neither he nor she wanted.

“If you let me in, I can explain.”

“Not if you’re going to arrest my husband.”  
  
“Emma, your brother is right. Let him in, we don’t want to draw a crowd.” That plea came from her husband, Leo’s new brother-in-law. Leo appreciated his level-headedness, especially since he had just been delivered the news he was to spend his immediate life behind bars.  
  
Emma cast a glare over her shoulder to her husband – Leo felt a wave of guilt at being the cause of early trouble in paradise – but she acquiesced to his entreaty, standing aside to allow Leo into the room. Emma hastily shut the door behind him, locking just in case.  
  
An air of awkwardness suddenly came over the room. Emma was still half-clothed, wearing nothing but a man’s shirt, whereas her husband wore only his trousers, his upper-half on full display. Leo could feel his cheeks reddening as he pretended not to notice the way the rest of their clothing had been haphazardly flung about the room. It was all too clear that the couple had engaged in coital bliss the night prior, and there were some things Leo preferred to not know about his sister.

“I’m Leo, by the way,” he said, shoving his hand forward, feeling the need to do something to abate the awkwardness. Unfortunately, it only seemed to make the situation worse, as Emma’s husband stared at his outstretched hand, quirking a dark eyebrow.

“I know who you are. We’ve met before.”  
  
And they had, not that Leo particularly remembered him well. The face looked familiar, but there were a number of handsome men in the kingdom’s navy. How was Leo supposed to remember all of their names, especially when they passed through the castle so quickly on one mission or another. To be honest, Leo was somewhat surprised that Emma had the time to secretly court a navy man. _How had it even happened? How long were they seeing one another?_ He really would have to sit down with Emma once the dust settled and hear it all from her.

“Um, yes, but that was as Prince Leopold of Misthaven and Lieutenant…” he paused, searching for the name of his sister’s new husband. She had told him as she was sneaking away, but it escaped him. He was horrible with names.

“Jones,” her husband, Lieutenant Jones, cut in. “It’s Killian Jones.” 

“Right, well, anyway. We met under much more formal constraints, and not as Leo, Brother of Emma, and Killian, Lover of Emma.” (There was a good reason Emma was to be queen. Leo made a terrible diplomat.) Even so, Killian finally reached out to accept Leo’s handshake, which the prince considered to be a success.

“Leo, just what are you doing here?” Emma demanded, breaking up the handshake and moving to her husband’s side. She pulled Killian against her. “They can’t arrest him. He’s my husband. That makes him Prince Consort!”

“Emma, you know it’s not that simple.” Judging by the way she downcast her eyes, she did know. She clearly didn’t want to entertain the idea, but she knew. Leo watched as she tugged her husband closer.  
  
Killian, for his part, looked more confused than concerned. The man clearly didn’t appear to value his life too much, as he carried on an illicit affair with the heir to the throne, but this was surprising even to Leo. Killian looked back and forth between Emma and Leo before slowly asking, “I don’t understand. How did you even know where we were?”  
  
“Emma told me.”

 An expression of hurt crossed the lieutenant’s face, and he turned to face Emma. “You told him? But we agreed not—“

“Leo caught me, and wouldn’t let me go until I explained! It wasn’t a planned thing. Right, Leo?” Emma looked at him expectantly.

“Er, right. I had no idea about your courtship until last night.”

Not for the first time, Leo wanted nothing more than to disappear from this room. It was awkward enough being here in their half-clothed state, but Leo could sense that a fight might be brewing and he certainly didn’t wish to be here for _that_. He couldn’t help but wonder why Killian was so concerned with Emma telling him, or rather, her breaking their agreement not to tell anyone.

  
His answer, thankfully, seemed to placate Killian. Annoyance gave way to concern, and the man used his free hand to rake through his hair. “And how many know about our courtship this morning?”    
  
Leo felt his cheeks redden, and he cast his eyes down when he answered. “Most of the castle, by this point…”

“Leo, you weren’t supposed to tell anyone!” Emma gasped, and he could hear the rage in her voice.  
  
“And you weren’t supposed to sneak out and marry an officer!” he argued back, even as he raised his hands in supplication. He tried to remind himself that this wasn’t a normal quarrel between siblings, but something far more serious. “Emma, Mother had one of her dreams, and found your bedchamber empty. I held my tongue as long as I could.”

“You couldn’t have held it longer?”

“And have them tearing apart the countryside looking for you?” he asked. “This was the most inconspicuous way.”  
  
He watched as his sister and brother-in-law exchange mournful glances. Emma looked back at him. When she spoke, her voice was small, almost defeated. “When are we expected back?” 

“As soon as possible.” 

“Can we have a moment, please?” Emma asked, tightening her hold on her husband. “Alone?”

Leo nodded. He owed his sister that much. As closed the door to the rented bedchamber, he couldn’t help but feel like he had a hand in destroying something special.

 

-/-

 

Snow White could clearly remember the moment her daughter was born. The birth had been a long and unpleasant affair, and she recalled swearing she’d never allow Charming to touch her again. But then it was over and Doc placed the squalling infant in her arms, and everything faded away but _Emma_.

She’d always felt a strong connection with her firstborn. Not only was Emma her only daughter, but there had been such uncertainty surrounding her birth. Though the Evil Queen had been banished early in the pregnancy, Snow had lain awake at nights terrified that Regina would return and destroy her family.  
  
Two decades later, Regina had yet to set foot back in the Enchanted Forest. Despite that, Snow was still standing in her daughter’s empty bedchamber, Emma nowhere to be found.  
  
Princess Emma had run away. Eloped.  
  
Over the years, Snow had envisioned the kind of wedding Emma might have. She’d fancied it might be a winter wedding, the castle grounds covered in snow. White and red roses would be everywhere, and Emma would be brought in on a silver sleigh led by white horses. Her dress would be white and her cape would be fur, and Charming would proudly walk her down aisle to where her prince would be waiting.  
  
But none of that came to pass.  
  
It was autumn, the leaves having just turned to shades of red, brown, and gold. Snow did not know what dress her daughter wore, or even if she carried any flowers. Emma likely didn’t have anyone to walk her down the aisle. She was alone when she went to marry her…her what? Snow didn’t even know the man who had absconded away with her daughter! Leo had claimed he might have been a lieutenant, but he could barely remember.  
  
She had been furious when her son had confessed that he knew where Emma had gone, that she had run away with some man.

“How could you not stop her?” she had cried, tears blurring the edges of her vision as anger and fear had taken over.

“Do you really think I could have stopped Emma once she put her mind to going?” he’d asked, not flinching at her emotional display. “She promised she’d return.”  
  
But Snow didn’t want to wait until when – _if?_ – Emma returned, so she’d sent Leo after her.  
  
And now, she waited.  
  
No sooner had her son left that Snow White’s anger had faded to sorrow. Her daughter had felt the need to elope, to run away from her friends and family to marry a stranger. What was his name? Snow didn’t even know that. She knew nothing of the man who captured her daughter’s heart – not how they met, or when their courtship began.  
  
If he was in their navy, they could have met at one of the many balls hosted by the kingdom. The balls were often held in honor of those giving service to the crown. Emma would dance with the knights and sailors in attendance, smiling and doing her duty as princess. But as Snow turned over memories, she couldn’t recall a face that particularly stood out, or anyone that Emma acted particularly partial toward.  
  
Snow found herself wandering back to her daughter’s bedchamber. The bed was made, her linens neatly tucked into place. It was how Snow found the room when she crept to check on her daughter hours earlier and found Emma gone. Snow collapsed onto the side of the empty bed, knuckles white as she clutched the quilts.  
  
When had her daughter become a stranger to her? What had she done to make Emma feel as if she had to keep her love a secret? Had she been too overbearing introducing her to potential suitors? All of these questions ran on repeat in her mind, overwhelming the queen.  
  
Snow felt like a failure.  
  
Emma should have been able to trust her with matters of the heart. Daughters were supposed to share these things with their mothers, weren’t they? All throughout her early courtship with Charming, Snow had wanted nothing more than to share with her parents how happy she was to be in love. But she never had the chance, being orphaned as she was.  
  
Maybe the loss of her mother meant that Snow never knew how to be a mother. She was fine with Emma when she was a child, but Snow had only precious few memories of her mother throughout her youth. Most of Snow’s teenage years had been under the watch of Regina, who hardly qualified as a loving mother. She’d been on the run during her young adulthood. Could this be why Emma ran away? Because Snow didn’t know how to be a mother?  
  
Or could the reason be more nefarious? She knew nothing of this naval officer, but he almost certainly knew quite a bit about her – her riches, her kingdom, and all that would pass to Emma. Snow was terrified that the man her daughter chose to marry would be using her to attain wealth and security. What if there was no love on his part for Emma? Would her daughter’s heart be shattered alongside her reputation?  
  
Snow felt the burn of tears in her eyes, and she tried her best to tamp them down. She couldn’t allow her emotions to get the better of her – not now. There was too much at risk. Emma’s heart, her life, and even her reputation would be determined in the next few hours.  
  
She felt heartless thinking about her daughter’s reputation, but as queen, she had to consider the consequences. The man her daughter ran away with had no standing, no land, and likely no family by which to speak. Any neighboring kingdom that had eyes on a marriage alliance would consider their nuptials a snub. Even if her daughter did share True Love with this man, their allies might not care. Charming had started a war to be Snow, was their kingdom prepared to fight for this stranger?  
  
And how would this affect Emma’s reputation among her people? Would she be considered weak? Would other kingdoms view her, as such? Charming might have been a shepherd, but most thought him a prince. Her daughter’s husband wouldn’t be awarded that privilege. Not to mention any possible children –

 _Children!_  
  
It struck her then that the reason Emma might have run away could be because she was with child. Could she have been afraid to reveal her condition, the speculation it might cause? Or worse, that they might force her to get rid of the child? There were herbs and potions that would do the trick, all women knew this. But Emma couldn’t actually believe that her parents would force her to take them, could she? But Snow no longer had a concept of her daughter’s perception of her and Charming.

She had to do something. She couldn’t just sit around and wait for Leo to hopefully return with Emma. Charming had already called the council together – regardless of what drove Emma to elope, they needed to know and strategize. They needed to do anything to mitigate the inevitable scandal. Once Emma returned, and hopefully explained everything, they would be able to better chart a course of action, but it would be best to be prepared ahead of time.  
  
But even then, she had no idea how to confront Emma. What could she even say? Snow felt as if she hardly knew her daughter anymore. One thing was for certain: she would have to separate her from the lieutenant before any questioning. If he had some sort of hold over her, if he had threatened her in any way, she would be much more likely to open up and share her reasons alone. Of course, knowing Emma, getting her alone would be a struggle, which meant preparation.  
  
One way to prepare for the inevitable confrontation with her daughter – her sometimes hot-headed, stubborn daughter – would be to find more information on the lieutenant. 

Snow felt terribly guilty for what she was considering – it would be a horrible breach of trust – but she reasoned Emma already broke that by running away. Surely Emma and the lieutenant exchanged letters of some sort. If not that, Emma might have kept a diary detailing her affair. That latter felt somewhat unlikely. Emma had conducted her affair with such an air of secrecy, it was unlikely she would have revealed too much. But there was chance, and Snow knew she had to take it. Taking a deep breath to gather herself, Snow stood from her bed and made her way to Emma’s wardrobe.  
  
She began to sort through her daughter dresses, beautiful gowns and skirts. Snow had always wanted a daughter for this very reason – it was always more fun to dress daughters than sons. But as her fingers brushed against the fine silks and ornate gowns, Snow couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness at how her and Emma’s relationship diverged from her earlier expectations. Not finding anything hidden among the dresses, she searched through the lower drawers of the wardrobe, but found nothing.

“Why did you want to hide this from me?” Snow asked to no one but the empty air.  
  
Snow’s looked around the room, the book cases, the chaise, and the trunks. Letters or a journal could be hidden anywhere. And even then, there might be nothing. But her intuition said otherwise. As much as she didn’t want to be the sort of mother who tore through shelves – Regina’s hadn’t even done _that –_ the potential threat to Emma’s safety propelled her forward.

It was not toward the shelves Snow moved, but the bed. She threw off the blankets, and rummaged under the overlarge and stuffed mattresses where her daughter normally slept.  
  
“Please be here,” she whispered, willing her hunch to be correct. Had her heart not been broken, she would have whooped with joy when her fingers brushed against what felt like a bundle of papers.  
  
When Snow freed herself from under the mattress, she knew she had found what she had been looking for. A bundle of parchment papers of different sizes were neatly stacked, tied together by a pretty ribbon. She pulled at the ribbon, untangling the single bow. She was sure that everything she needed was in her hands. Swallowing her guilt, Snow lifted the first note.  
  
It was a small piece of parchment, and the indentations in the paper indicated that it had been folded multiple times as if it had been opened and closed many times before being tucked away, likely in a pocket or in the folds of a dress.

  
_Knowing I have but one more night away from you is the sweetest of tortures. Sleep well, my love, and know that I will only be dreaming of you. –K_  
  
It was a sweet note. Charming had left her many notes along those lines over their many years together. They had always made her happy, a simple reminder that he thought of her often. Under normal circumstances, she would be happy for Emma to receive notes such of these, but has she had no knowledge of the man writing them, Snow couldn’t feel the normal elation of a mother whose daughter had found love.  
  
This time when she felt tears brimming at the corner of her eyes, she allowed them to fall freely.  
  
She sorted through the letters, not reading them all, intent on finding one long enough with pertinent information. Some things ought to be kept a secret, even from mothers, and even in the direst of situations. Many of the notes were short missives anyway, the scraps of paper falling to the rugs as she sorted through them all. Finally, she settled on a long, folded piece of parchment. She hoped it had what she was looking for, and judging by the long paragraphs written in elegant script, she was sure her hunch was correct.

 _My dearest, Emma,_  
  
_Do you remember the night in which we met? If not, allow me to refresh your memory. Your family held a ball in honor of the return of the Jewel. Liam had been so proud for the chance to be honored by the King and Queen, and so had I. It meant so much to us knowing our origins, to revel in the fact that two slaves could become honored members of the Royal Navy._  
  
_I had never attended anything with such pomp and circumstance. There was endless food and wine, ornate tapestries on the walls, and ladies in even more ornate dresses dancing around the ballroom floor._  
  
_And then there was you._  
  
_I could hardly speak when you greeted us, something which Liam would mock me for later. But, Emma, I wish you would understand, you were a vision in that crimson gown – a warning to my heart that you would give it no quarter. You were a pirate, plundering my better senses, making me reconsider my oaths for a chance to hold you close. One look at you, my love, and I was gone._  
  
_I never believed in love at first sight. To be honest, I hardly gave any credence to the notions of True Love. As you know, my parents had a loveless marriage, and the closest example of romantic love I ever witnessed as a lad were sailors running off to bed their favorite whore. I’d heard stories of your parents, of course, but to me it sounded like nothing more than an exaggeration upon exaggeration._  
  
_And then I met you, and it awoke something in me. Let this be my confession to you, Emma: you made me believe in love. I must confess I didn’t realize it at first, but from that very moment our eyes met, I felt warmth blooming inside my chest, and the hope that there could be something more for me besides my profession._  
  
_And when you accepted my bid for a dance, allowing me to hold you in my arms – so very chaste, it had been then! – deep down I knew that I never wanted to let you go. You felt perfect there, as if your hand had been molded to fit into mine._

  
 _It strange to write these things, because never before have I felt this way, and knowing you feel the same is the sweetest of gifts. I’ve been turning your confession over in my head, so much so that Liam thinks I’ve taken to the rum. He must think me a fool, but I am a fool for love – for you._  
  
_Not that this is some folly. Of_ course _it isn’t. The depth of my feelings for you could never be so. I may have thought it a fool’s errand once, but no more. Not with you, my savior._  
  
_I love you, Emma. Truly, and I shall carry that love with me through the most tumultuous of storms._  
  
_-Your love, always, Killian Jones_  
  
Finally, Snow White had a name.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your continued support of the story. Your comments have been amazing, and I'm glad you're all engaged! Credit for this story definitely goes to @wexyuk for betaing this and talking me through points that concerned me. Many thanks to @just-be-magnificent and @piratesrumforswan for reading my story and doing fabulous art. They're super amazing and talented.

On Emma’s tenth birthday, she was gifted a dog which she had named Bigby. He was a handsome thing, large and gray with pointed ears and a long snout. Aunt Red had called him more wolf than mutt, not that Emma minded. What mattered was that Bigby was hers, and oh how she had cherished him.  
  
One spring, shortly before a ball, Bigby had run outside in the rain. Despite wearing a gorgeous pink gown, Emma had chased after her beloved dog, afraid he would run away and never come back. She caught him quickly enough, but upon her return to the castle, it became apparent that her dress was sodden and hair ruined in the downpour.  
  
She grew upset and afraid her parents would grow incredibly angry. After all, that ball had been one of her very first, and her mother had adored the dress. But when her parents had discovered what had occurred, they simply laughed it off. They were disappointed, sure, but it was only a dress.

“You still love me?” Emma had asked them, for she was still a child and the thought of disappointing them was such a terrible thing then.

They had laughed at her question then, as it was such a silly thing to them, and told her with deep conviction, “There is nothing you can do to make us not love you.”  
  
She held onto that memory as Killian tucked her closer to his side as they awaited the arrival of her parents.  
  
Emma ran her thumb along the underside of her finger, tracing over the band Killian had given her. She’d been so happy when he had proposed, had cried and kissed him and done all of the cliché things a woman was expected to do when a man dropped to his knees before her. She’d been so happy then, so sure. And when they had begun to plan their elopement in secret, Emma had been equally confident that though her parents would be disappointed, that they would come along, but now she wasn’t so sure.

Emma clasped Killian’s hand in a tight embrace. She was sure that the press of her ring was uncomfortable with how tightly she was squeezing him, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding onto her just as strong. They had finally arrived at the castle, Leo having escorted them in one of the royal carriages.  
  
Emma loathed her brother a bit for his choice of transportation. She loathed him for many things at the moment, many which were admittedly out of his control, but she blamed him all the same. Telling Mother and Father her plans, rushing out to fetch her and Killian, and the damned carriage.  
  
It was hardly inconspicuous, the carriage. Though he didn’t wave a flag with the royal crest, it was clear to everybody that it belonged to someone important. And she was sure when Leo had swept into the inn searching for her, heads turned. He didn’t wear anything obvious enough to announce he was the prince, but his fine leathers were clue enough.

Emma wondered if the patrons had puzzled together her identity. They knew her name was Emma. She hadn’t tried to hide that fact. You couldn’t visit a village in the entirety of Misthaven without running into an Emma, or several. After her name day, the name “Emma” had fallen into vogue amongst the commoners. It was a strange tradition, one that Emma wasn’t sure she liked, but the popularity of her name allowed her to blend in without much obfuscation.  
  
That had been especially important to her, because she wanted to marry Killian as Emma. No one would honor a marriage in which the bride lied about her identity. So when the Friar had asked their names, they’d told the truth. They were Killian and Emma. They simply refrained from telling the man that she was the royal Emma.  
  
It had felt like a special sort of rebellion for Emma, blending in among the inn patrons as they toasted their wedding. People bought them ales and fruit, told Killian he was lucky to find a lass as lovely as she. But no one had even suspected she was the princess. It was freeing, in a way.  
  
But then Leo had to ruin it all.

She knew she was immature thinking of the situation in those terms. A voice deep inside – her conscience, Jiminy would say – reminded her that her brother had been trying to make do with the situation he was given. He had tried to keep her secret as long as possible – the fact that he had arrived as late as he had was evidence enough – but Emma still couldn’t help but resent the fact that he had been the one to shatter her fantasy, bringing her back to reality.

To be honest, Emma hadn’t really thought through what would happen had they been caught in such a way. She’d been prepared for guards when trying to escape the confines of castle grounds, but once they passed through the Middlemist field, she’d thought they would be free. She’d return to the castle, husband in hand, and then explain to her parents what had occurred. 

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the wisest of plans. Naïve, really. But it was a better alternative than this: her mother awakening in the dark of night to Emma’s empty bedchamber, only to learn from someone else that she had run away to marry. It was mortifying. 

Emma had known that her parents wouldn’t take the news particularly well no matter which way they found out. But she had hoped that they would have learned of the news from her. It would have been more personal, Emma would have gotten the chance to explain. Killian would have been by her side. There would have been no time for her parents to ruminate, to dwell on their fears of if she was alive and safe, because she would have been there.

Emma wondered what they were thinking. Nothing good, that was for sure. Leo had let them know that on the carriage ride back home, going into further detail about what had occurred in the castle prior to him leaving – or rather, being ordered to leave – to find her. Mother in a rage and near tears, Father out for blood and drawing the knights.

“They thought it was Regina,” he’d explained solemnly, and Emma had felt a pang of guilt at that. For all her life, Emma had lived under the threat of Regina’s possible return. The former Evil Queen had been defeated and expelled from the kingdom – Emma was fairly certain the woman was dead, by this point – but that didn’t stop her parents from worrying she’d return to exact her revenge.  
  
It was why Emma knew how to handle a sword, to shoot a bow and arrow, and to track and forage – all of the things that princesses normally eschewed in favor of high teas and pretty dresses. Not that Emma minded teas and dresses – she liked them very much, in fact – but she never had a chance to choose one or the other. It was suffocating, waiting for something that might never come.

“You have to understand, for years she was always trying to hunt them down. Your mother would fall asleep not knowing if she would wake up again,” her Aunt Red had once explained. Emma had felt empathy for her mother, but she didn’t want to live in the past, especially one that was long gone.

The desire to escape her gilded cage was what initially drew her to Killian. He was handsome, of course, and a brilliant dancer. But he promised something different, something exciting, and forbidden. She’d been taught to approach her life with caution, to be prepared for the next big attack, that she wanted a different sort of risk, something – _someone_ – exciting.  
  
And then she ran away and married him. 

That had been months in the making. Months of stolen kisses and secret letters, dances and walks where they talked about everything and nothing at all. She’d learned he lived a rough life, abandoned by his father and raised by his brother. Because of their abandonment, his brother, Liam, had a protective streak of his own.

“It’s maddening,” Killian had once explained. “I can be the lieutenant, and I can fight in your wars, but he’s always there worrying over me, as if he is a mother hen and I his chick. I love him, but it’s as if I’m a bird stuck in a cage, with him letting me out when he sees fit.”  
  
She had understood perfectly.  
  
Emma clung tighter to her husband, if it was even possible. In response, he pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “It will all be fine, love, you’ll see.”  
  
He was lying. She had always been able to tell when people were lying, and now Killian was doing it to her. He honestly didn’t believe things would be fine, and she would be hurt had the same worry not gnawed at her gut. She appreciated that he was willing to at least pretend, to stay strong for her sake. There was no use in acting terrified, even if he did have more to lose than she.  
  
No matter what happened, she silently vowed to protect him. No matter what the council, the courts, or her parents wanted, no harm would come to him. He wasn’t the one who coerced her into this – she went willingly, happily.  
  
“Whatever you do to him, you shall do to me,” she’ll say. After all, she was his wife, and what misfortunes befell him would befall her. It was only right. And if that didn’t work, she’d remind them all that she was next to be queen. That had to hold some weight.  
  
But all of her actions depended on how the current king and queen would react. Emma wondered what was taking so long. Leo had long since disappeared to fetch them, leaving her and Killian alone in one of the many sitting rooms in the castle. At the very least, she was grateful that her brother gifted her and Killian that privacy. She’d seen blessedly few servants, but those that she did pass upon reentry to the castle eyed her with suspicion, and Emma knew the whispers were only just beginning to spread.  
  
She didn’t care what they gossiped, as long as she kept Killian. She would fight for him. She would. 

“No matter what happens next, know that I love you,” she told him. He flashed her a sad sort of smile, and lifted their joined hands. He placed a kiss just over her wedding band, and replied, “Aye, love, there was never any doubt.”  
  
It was then when her parents swept into the room, flanked by two knights. Leo was nowhere to be found, and Emma briefly wondered if his absence was by choice or order. As expected, her parents looked grim. Her mother’s eyes were rimmed with red – she had clearly been crying – and her father’s brows were drawn. His eyes flicked between her and Killian, assessing them. Emma refused to let go of her husband’s hand.

“Emma, are you okay?” her mother asked. The softness in her voice surprised Emma. She was prepared for anger, really anything other than that. Her question reflected nothing of the picture Leo had painted for her. 

“Yes, of course, there’s no reason not to be,” Emma answered finally. Defiance still coursed through her, but it was tempered somewhat by her mother’s even approach. Looking away from them, she glanced up at Killian. “This is Killian, my husband.”

“It is lovely to finally meet you, Killian,” her mother greeted. Queen Snow was being polite and quite diplomatic, every bit the monarch she was known for being. Emma’s instincts flared – something certainly felt wrong. “If you will excuse me, I’d like to speak to my daughter alone.”

“We’re married now. Anything you say to me, he can hear as well,” Emma argued back. But she felt Killian squeeze her hand, and looked toward her smiling.

“No worries, love, I’m sure you can tell me later.” Her gut told her that he was lying, again everything to keep her happy. “Go with your mother. I’ll be fine.”  
  
She didn’t want to leave, but Killian had cocked his head toward her parents, and both Mother and Father stood waiting. She let go of his hand, feeling bereft at the loss of contact. Her mother reached out to her, and Emma took her hand. It was softer than Killian’s. Emma watched as her mother’s eyes flicked toward the ring on her finger, her expression imperceptible. 

Emma looked back to Killian. “I love you,” she said. He smiled, but did not return the expression. Or maybe he did, but Emma was already being swept from the room. It was only after she was gone that her father said to their knights one simple order:

“Seize him.”  
  
-/-

 

He’d always assumed it would come to this – him sentenced to the castle dungeons, their affair finally come to light. The situation hadn’t progressed quite how he had expected – they’d been so close, celebrating their wedding and wedding night – but his fears were realized all the same.  
  
Killian had hoped, of course, that their secret wouldn’t unfold this way, but the grim acceptance had always been there in the back of his mind, creeping in during his darkest moments and reminding him that his relationship with the princess was far too good to be true. He could almost hear Captain Silver’s voice taunting him, _“Did you truly think a slave like you could be accepted by the king and queen? You can hardly hold your liquor, how could you ever manage the crown?”_  
  
He was a drunk and a gambler. And though he tried to paint himself as a better man, a man of honor, it was nothing but a masquerade. How could it be anything but?

He loved Emma, truly. But even he couldn’t deny that his love placed her in a rather precarious position. He’d always known that, as had she. Had their affair come to light any earlier, her marriage prospects could be ruined. And he’d considered it all worth it in the end, placing his selfish desires over her wellbeing. He wanted her, plain and simple, her status as his princess be damned.  
  
Though she’d agreed to it all, consented every step of the way, he should have known better. He did know better. _“Remember yourself, Killian,”_ Liam had warned after they had first met Emma, and Killian had shared a dance with her. It had been a reminder then that Emma was to be nothing more than a fantasy, and for him to not get in too far over his head. She was a princess and he a lowly lieutenant, and the idea crossing those boundaries was not to be entertained.  
  
Killian was always terrible at listening to instruction, and as a gambler, he loved to take a risk.

And what a risk it was! It had made it all the more fun, their earlier courtship. Sneaking to and from her bedchambers and through the shadowed hallways had thrilled him, and made their couplings all the more intense. He hadn’t bedded her, of course – he knew well enough to not take that gamble – but even loving one another other ways had heightened the pleasure. Even when they ran away to elope, there had been a certain excitement that went well beyond the elation at finally having her as his bride.  
  
Gods, he was a blackguard through and through.

He wondered where Emma was now. She had disappeared with her parents, the memory of her mouthing “I love you” to him seared into his mind. Were they interrogating her? Talking her out of what they surely considered a mistake? His heart had swelled when she initially refused to let go of his hand, but now it was full of doubt. Emma was an anchor, and with her he felt strong, but alone he was afraid. 

Killian had no doubt that Emma loved him. She had proved that by agreeing to marry him. But affairs of the heart were different than those of the crown, and when the two were at odds, the crown would often win. She’d told him that once, not long after her parents had hosted a ball to introduce her to another suitor.

“They want me to fall in love, but they also want me to wed soon,” she’d said to him. She was of marriage age, a few months shy of nineteen, and could tell her parents were growing antsy with the hope that she’d find a love to tell a story for the ages much like theirs. “My parents first met when my mother nearly incapacitated my father with a rock, and yet they expect me to find my True Love at a ball.”

He hadn’t commented on the irony of that statement when she’d first said it, too afraid of pressing the matter that early in their courtship, if it even was a courtship then. She had met him at a ball, and fallen in love with him without any occurrences of head injuries. Killian doubted her parents would find pride in their daughter falling in love the way they intended, especially considering the disdain in her father’s eyes when he first assessed him.  
  
He felt a surge of guilt at the inevitable divide he was creating between Emma and her parents. Though she vented about them often, it was clear that she loved and admired them greatly. He had never explicitly asked her choose, but his proposal might have been considered as much, even if neither he nor she perceived it that way. If she were forced to choose, truly choose, would she choose him? Could he even ask that of her?

 _“You’re married, but there’s no proof,”_ Emma’s brother had said. _“It would be easy to claim the whole thing wasn’t legal, or that the couple wasn’t actually the two of you.”_  
  
“But they wouldn’t!”

 _“They could.”_

Emma had claimed she wouldn’t let it come to that – she’d been so sure that her parents would accept their elopement to the point of not even considering the alternatives. But there were alternatives, it seemed, to make their marriage appear as nothing more than a dream.  
  
He groaned and collapsed to the ground, burying his face in his hands. His knees protested the hardness of the ground, but he stayed there, attempting to get a reign on the emotions brewing inside. It would do no good to fall apart, but he felt himself tearing away at the seams. Had it really been just a few hours ago that he had been so happy with Emma in his arms? It felt so long ago.

Killian didn’t know what to do, not that he could do much in this cell. He wondered how long they would keep him down here for. Would there be an interrogation? Floggings? He’d been beaten often as a child by Silver’s crew for actions justified or not, and absconding away with the princess was certainly considered worse than any of those misdeeds. Regardless, he would take whatever punishment they doled out at him, for he did not regret loving Emma.  
  
He wondered that if worst came to worst, he would get the chance to see her again. He wondered if he would get the chance to see anyone again.

Killian felt a twisting in his gut when he remembered Liam – Liam who had practically raised him, who was still in the dark regarding the whole affair. What would Liam think? Would he even know? A wave of nausea passed through him as those questions and more ran through his mind. It tormented Killian hiding his and Emma’s romance from his brother. Liam had been his protector and confidante, and though their relationship could at times feel confining, he was still his brother. He loved him as much as he loved Emma.

“You have the wrong man!”

Killian’s head snapped up at the unmistakable sound of his brother’s voice. But it didn’t make sense. Liam would be at port, not here, not anywhere near the castle. Unless…

“No,” Killian gasped. “No, no, no.”  
  
He surged upward, hands gripping the iron the bars holding him in place. He craned his head, trying to listen for more, praying the voice he heard had been a hallucination, a byproduct of his torment. Unfortunately, as with most things in his life, his wishful thinking could not come true. 

Flanked by two guards, Liam approached into view, arms tied behind his back. He didn’t look worse for wear, and was dressed in one of his finer uniforms. He had a meeting with Admiral Woodhull scheduled for the morning. He’d been preening about it the morning before, but Killian had been too distracted with his own plans to pay him too much mind.

He wanted to throw up.  
  
As Liam and the guards drew nearer, Liam finally noticed him. Killian could pinpoint the moment, because his brother’s expression changed from consternation to distress. Always protective, that brother of his.

“Back away from the cell doors,” one of the guards warned. He placed his hand on the hilt of the sword, not that Killian placed any mind to it. 

“Liam didn’t have anything to do with this. It was just me, I swear it. He’s innocent.” 

_“Killian, what are you going on about?”_

“I SAID BACK AWAY FROM THE DOOR!”

This time, the guard wasted no time pulling his sword, while the other took tighter hold on Liam. There wasn’t much either of the men could do with Killian behind bars, but Liam was defenseless. It would be easy to harm him.  
  
Killian raised his hands and backed away from the cell door. Never one to know when to properly close his mouth, he continued, “My brother is innocent in all of this. He doesn’t deserve to be here.”

The guard holding Liam scoffed. “That will be for the King and Queen to decide, won’t it?”

And with that, Liam was thrown unceremoniously to the floor of the cell. Rage coursed through Killian’s blood, and he fought back the urge to surge forward toward the guards. He thought better of it, listening to his better angels knowing anything other than supplication would only make matters worse. Instead of fighting, he chose to go to his brother, lifting him to his feet as the guards locked the cell door behind them.

The brothers watch the guards turn the corner back toward the stone stairwell leading toward the dungeon before speaking. Liam embraced him, eyes darting in assessment. “Killian, are you okay? They claimed that you had kidnapped the princess! Tell me this can’t be true.”

Killian was silent for a long moment. Liam was staring at him with such earnestness and belief. Gods, how he had failed his older brother.  
  
“I didn’t kidnap her.” Relief washed over Liam’s face. It was short-lived. “You can’t kidnap anyone who freely joins you.”

In another moment, Killian might have laughed at the idea that Emma could be kidnapped. Spirited Emma, taken by a mere naval lieutenant? No, not his Emma. But Killian knew Liam would not appreciate the humor, and the relief that his brother once exhibited morphed into something darker.

“Killian—“

“Liam, you have to understand that we thought this was the only way we could be together,” Killian was babbling, the words spilling forth. How he’d imagined sharing with Liam the knowledge of his relationship with Emma. In all his fantasies, it had been nothing like this. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way, and gods, you weren’t supposed to be dragged into this.”

“Little brother, what are you saying?”

It was a testament to the gravity of the situation that Killian didn’t call Liam out on his use of “little brother,” as was his normal custom.

“Last night, Princess Emma and I eloped. We’re married.” He couldn’t stop the smile that curled on the corner of the lips when finally said the words. He felt a weight lift from his shoulders, one that had been plaguing him for the entirety of his and Emma’s courtship. Liam finally knew. Regardless of what came next, he had that relief.  
  
Killian’s relief was fleeting as he watched his brother digest the information. For the longest while, his expression was unreadable. Finally, he spoke.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am, truly,” Killian replied. He reached out and placed his hand on his older brother’s shoulder. “Liam, I swear to you, no matter what Emma and I will ensure that nothing will happen to you. We’ll figure out a way, I promise.”

Liam smacked Killian’s arm away. Killian shrunk away from his brother, hurt by his brother’s sudden turn to anger. He wasn’t surprised, but there had been a foolish part of him that had hoped that maybe, possibly Liam would be happy for him, pleased that he had finally found a love so true.

“How could you possibly be so foolish?”

“You – they – it wasn’t supposed to come out this way!” Killian’s own argument sounded lame to his ears. They’d been naïve, maybe foolish, but, “I love her, Liam.”

“And where has that love gotten you, Killian? In the castle’s dungeon? Truly love has gotten you far!” Killian bristled at Liam’s mocking tone. “And where is your love now? Sitting pretty up in her castle? She’s done so well in protecting you, hasn’t she?”

“Leave Emma out of this!” Liam could attack Killian all he wanted, but he wouldn’t allow anyone to attack Emma, not even his own brother.

“Why should I? You all but ruined your life for her!” Liam began to pace in the small cell as Killian stood, his hands balling into fists. “You worked so hard for this, we both did. Do you think they’ll allow you to stay in the Navy now? It will be back to the streets with you! Can you honestly say that she is worth all of that?”

“Yes!” Killian’s anger was burning white hot now. “Of course she is! Do you think I would have done all of this had I not believed our love to be true?”

Liam laughed, but it was a hollow sort of thing. “Ah, yes, a love so true that you had to steal away in the dark of the night to marry her, keeping the entire affair a secret from everyone you hold dear.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Neither is me being here for your mistakes!”

Killian’s shoulders sagged at Liam’s declaration. There was nothing he could say to back, because Liam was right. It wasn’t fair that he was also here, paying for an action in which he was not complicit.  
  
“I’m sorry you were brought into this.” 

“Apologize all you want, little brother, I doubt it will do little in saving our lives.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday! Today is busy, so you’re getting this chapter earlier in the morning. Thank you to all who have read my contribution to the captainswanbigbang . Your reactions give me much joy. Credit goes to where credit is due with the lovely beta work of wexyuk , who told me if it was to angsty or not, or if I had the right level of comic relief. Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, piratesrumforswan and just-be-magnificent . They made pretty art and told me what they liked. Y’all are great.

When Emma was led into her bedchamber by her mother, the first thing she noticed was that someone – that someone certainly being her mother – had rifled through her belongings. There was a stack of parchment sitting on the bed, and Emma blanched at the realization that her mother had found the many letters Killian had written her over the course of her courtship.   
  
She didn’t know whether to be indignant or mortified. She thought it a true violation of her privacy for her mother to have read any of them, especially since quite a few of the letters had taken a rather scandalous tone at multiple points. Her cheeks began to burn when she thought of her mother coming across those words, but she tried to push that thought out of her mind. There were certainly greater concerns.   
  
Emma wondered why Queen Snow had led her to her own bedchamber. Certainly, the castle was large enough that there would be other places to sit and talk. She considered that her mother was trying to put her at ease. After all, this was meant to be Emma’s sanctuary from the world.

She stayed silent as her mother walked her toward her chaise, entreating her to sit down. There was something odd about her mother’s behavior, and Emma wondered if she was trying to give her a false sense of security. Is this what their relationship had come to?

“I asked Helen to bring us up some tea,” Snow explained, referencing one of the castle’s many maids. “I’m sure that will help settle you.” 

“I don’t need to be settled,” Emma replied, suddenly feeling on guard. What was it that her mother was trying to accomplish? “I’m doing just fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” That was a lie. She was experiencing a number of emotions at that very moment, none of which could be described of as ‘fine.’ Fear, anger, worry, and even happiness – Emma felt all of those, but not fine. But if her mother could put on a misleading façade, so could she. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
“ _Emma_ ,” her mother admonished, her voice taking on a tone of disbelief. She drew Emma’s hand into her own, and squeezed it tightly. If she noticed the press of Emma’s new ring into her skin, she did not let it show. “You know you can be honest with me, sweetheart.”

“And you can be honest with me, but it seems like you’re not. What makes me any different?”   
  
“The difference is that I am your mother and you are my child.”

“I’m not a child. I’m almost twenty.” Emma raised her chin in defiance and pulled her hand away. Her mother appeared hurt by her actions, and Emma pushed away the swoop of guilt she felt in response. She would have to be strong for what she said next. “Besides, I’m a married woman now.” 

Her mother opened her mouth in response, and whatever she had been about to say was interrupted by a quiet knock at the door, followed by Helen scurrying inside carrying a tray with the tea. The woman averted her eyes as she passed Emma and Snow, and softly placed the tray on the table by the chaise lounge.

“Is there anything else you’ll be needing, Your Majesty?” she asked, eyes still averted. There was a hint of pink to her cheeks as she asked. It was strange for Emma to see Helen this way. She had known the servant for years, and the woman had never before deferred in such a way. She was obedient, sure, but often friendly with bright eyes and shared smiles.

“I don’t believe so, but thank you, Helen,” her mother replied. Helen nodded, then curtsied, and as quickly as she appeared she was gone.

Snow reached for the tea, taking the mug in her hand, and took a sip. “Would you like any? It’s chamomile, your favorite.”

Emma shook her head. She doubted tea would help her, and honestly she craved something a bit stronger to dull her nerves. Even so, she doubted her mother would grant her request for wine or something stronger.

They sat in silence for a long while, neither moving to speak. It was out of character for her mother to behave in such a way. When there was a problem, her mother had liked to attack it head on. Her approach often led to fights with Emma, who would have preferred to internalize and draw inward. In the past, when she had been distraught, it meant that no matter how much Emma had wanted to be left alone, Snow would try to pry. 

So her silence, in this case, was off-putting.

Emma wondered what would happen if she continued to hold her tongue. Would her mother continue to sit in silence? But then thoughts of Killian flashed through her mind. She wondered what he was doing right now. Was he still in the sitting room? Was he with her father? She blanched at the thought. The sooner she spoke, the sooner they could hopefully be together.

“I completely stand by my decision to marry him, just so you know. I have no regrets,” she said finally. Emma clasped her hands together, comforting herself with the feel of her ring, the one that had belonged to his mother. “I love him, truly. Like you and Papa.”

“If that is the case, then why hide him from us?” her mother asked. There was a hint of sadness in her voice, one that Emma tried to ignore. “Did he threaten you?”

“What? No!” Emma was aghast that her mother would entertain such a thought. “Do you honestly think that I could be threatened into marrying someone? Besides, he would never do that. Never.”

“Emma, you have to understand that neither I nor your father know anything about this man or your relationship. We’re only trying to keep your best interests at heart.”  
  
“If you had my best interests at heart, you would know to trust me,” Emma replied. She turned her head away from her mother, and stared at some far away spot across the room. “You and Papa raised me to follow my heart, did you not? And it led me to Killian.”

“That’s well and good, Emma, but that doesn’t change the fact that you hid him from us. What are your father and I supposed to think?” Snow’s voice turned stern amid this new line of questioning. “You know I wish to believe you, but you’ve given us no evidence to believe it so. You hid him from us. You ran away into the night to elope. He didn’t even speak to your father about his intentions. Is he even prepared for the court? How much do you know about him?” 

“I know enough!” Emma shouted. She flung herself from the chaise, her body surging with energy. “And I hid him because I was afraid. Not of loving him, but of losing him. All of the men you parade before me at these balls, they see me as a prize or piece of land, or trade negotiation. I am none of that to Killian. I am my own person, and he values that. And I believed if I told you, then I would lose that.”

Her mother looked taken aback, and Emma could see the tears brimming her eyes. She felt those same tears in her own, but she willed them back. Not now. She couldn’t allow herself to cry. She had to be strong, strong for both herself and Killian.

“Your father and I only want for you to be happy. Why would telling us about him mean you might lose him?” Her mother looked truly confused and distraught.

“Tell me, mother, do you believe a naval lieutenant would be effective in protecting the kingdom from Regina? Would he be a better or worse tactical decision than a prince who has armies and navies and soldiers willing to die in our wars?” Emma asked, her voice rising on each word. “Because I believe I know how you would answer, and it isn’t in Killian’s favor.”

It was a low blow on Emma’s part, and she knew it wasn’t particularly fair. Her parents had always encouraged her to find love. But there had always been a cynical part of Emma that saw through the way they encouraged her to meet princes and dukes from neighboring kingdoms with large armies. To her mother’s credit, she took Emma’s accusation in stride.

“Is that truly what you think of your father and I?” her mother asked, her voice surprisingly even.

“Do you blame me?” Emma asked, raising her arms in defeat. “My entire life, I’ve been haunted by Regina’s ghost, why should my marriage be any different? Can you honestly tell me that the idea of me marrying someone with the better ability to protect me and the kingdom never crossed your mind? That you didn’t wish that I would choose a prince over a common man?”

“Your father and I only want you to be safe.” It wasn’t a denial, and it surprised Emma how much that stung.

“There’s more to life than my safety. I want to be happy, too. And Killian gives me both.” Her mother was quiet, clearly considering her words. Emma approached her, and dropped to her knees in front of her, just as she would do when she was a young child. “Papa once risked a war to be by your side. Please understand why I felt the need to do whatever I could to have Killian by mine.” 

“Things were different then,” her mother argued, “and your father had his mother’s support.”

“Things are different now, yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have your support now,” Emma implored. “Please, Mother. I know I hurt you, and for that I’m sorry, but I need you to stand by me on this. Will you?

-/-

 

David considered himself a good man, a just man. However, every moment that passed only made him increasingly likely to kill the man known as Killian Jones, the one who had absconded away with his daughter. His earlier terror had since given way to anger. Emma was, at the very least, safe and home. That spared Jones some time at the very least.

He did not know much about Killian Jones. Apparently, David had met him at various balls, and he sailed under Misthaven's flagship vessel, the _Jewel of the Realm_. White-faced and nervous, Admiral Woodhull had relayed that the boy – for how can one be a man when he runs away with a princess in such a way – had always been a talented sailor and a quick study. 

"I never would have thought him to do such a thing," Woodhull had said after he'd be told the identity of Emma's captor. "Of course, from what I recall, we know little of his breeding. That could play a part."

The admiral had made the latter comment offhand, surely forgetting that the King in front of him had once been, and still considered himself at times, a shepherd. Normally, the comment would have rankled David somewhat, but he had more important matters to consider -- namely, the fate of his daughter.

"I don't think he's particularly bad," Leo said after he had returned with Emma and that lieutenant. (David refused to call that person her husband. Not yet, and maybe not ever.) "He seemed quite nice, actually."

"He convinced your sister to run away with him. That's hardly nice."

Leo had shrugged. "I have a feeling that Emma was the one who convinced him to run away."

Leo's words hung with David, and he forced himself to walk away. It was much easier for David to believe that this Killian Jones had been the mastermind behind whatever had occurred between him and Emma. Jones was a few years older than Emma, and certainly more experienced in the ways of the world. He'd come from nothing, and though David loathed to think such things, Jones very well could be a social climber, out for a ransom of gold or land. If his motives had been true, why hide the affair?

"They might have been scared," Leo offered when David had voiced that very concern. "Their courtship is untraditional, and maybe they thought--"

"Leo, you of all people know we wouldn't have cared," he assured, placing his hand on his only son's shoulders. He was almost a man now, just a few weeks shy from turning eighteen. David wasn't sure how time had passed so quickly. "You and your sister have to know that."

"All I'm saying is that I understand her thought process, that's all." Leo pulled away from his grasp and rolled his shoulders. "Emma loves him. Maybe we should try to, as well." 

"And if we can't?" David couldn't imagine ever loving Killian Jones. He could hardly imagine Emma loving him. 

He'd always knew - or hoped - that his daughter would fall in love someday, but Killian Jones was not the man he envisioned. He'd envisioned a man of honor, not someone who would steal away in the night with his daughter. A man of honor would come to him. Marriage was not simply a joining of hearts, but of families. Did Killian Jones truly think so little of the family he was joining? Did he think at all?

"At the very least, you can let him out of the dungeons," Leo offered. "I can't imagine that Emma will be too happy once she discovers you've sent him there."

"Emma's happiness unfortunately isn't a priority right now. I have to be more concerned with her safety," David replied, guilt radiating off him as he spoke. 

Leo eyed him dubiously, and David felt his cheeks burn in shame. He didn't want to be this man, the one who didn't trust in his daughter's instincts. But her actions went against everything he had raised her to value: honesty, truth, and love. 

Love. 

A small voice in the back of his mind reminded him that Emma was acting out of love. But could it really be love if it turned her against her family and values? David sighed, pressing his fingers against his temples. He had developed the most awful headache, and knew it wouldn't abate for a long while.

"It's all going to be okay, Papa," Leo said. He hadn't called him Papa in ages. Oh, how time had passed.

David looked to his son. Despite the energy Leo was feigning, David could see the dark circles under his eyes. It had been a long night for everyone, and though the hour was well into the morning, he encouraged his son to get some rest.

"And miss all the excitement?" Leo asked him, a long yawn betraying him. 

"I imagine the excitement will still be going for some time yet. It will be here when you wake." David grimaced. This was only the beginning of whatever chaos Killian Jones had wrought upon his family.   
  
Leo appeared as if he was about to argue, but then he yawned again, and in a wave of pure acquiescence, he gave his father a hug and ambled from the room, leaving David alone with his thoughts. Once he was sure his son had left, David collapsed onto the nearest chair and buried his head into his hands.

He had no idea how to proceed. The council was already up in arms, many calling for Killian Jones' head, others trying to formulate a plan to get out of this mess. Jones, himself, was in the dungeons, alongside his brother. That had been a plan concocted by Admiral Woodhull, who had proposed the idea as a way to see if any of the brothers Jones would confess to anything nefarious. 

And then there was Emma.

He did not know what to do about Emma. When she had returned to the castle, her fingers entwined with Jones', she looked like her normal self, but David wasn't sure he recognized her any longer. What had become of his little girl, the one he taught to sword fight and dance, so much so that she could not trust him with the matters of her heart. Where had he gone wrong to erode the layer of trust between them?

She was with Snow now. He and his wife had agreed that a one-on-one approach was the best method for approaching their daughter. That way, she would not feel as attacked by the two of them. She could feel safe, safe enough to confess or to warn them of Jones' true nature. 

But what then? What came next? David did not know. He was terrified of any heartbreak that could come his daughter's way. And heartbreak would come. David did not believe that the scoundrel who convinced his daughter to run away and forsake all propriety could offer her anything but. 

He needed to protect Emma. 

An idea came to mind, one he was sure wouldn't please his daughter, one that would surely break her heart. But her heart was sure to break anyway, and better sooner than later. She could still disentangle herself from this ordeal, her reputation relatively unscathed. 

David knew what he had to do.

He called to his guards, ordering them to bring to him Killian Jones. Admiral Woodhull's plan would have to wait. He seethed, pacing around the room as he waited for Jones to appear. He knew he would have to restrain himself from punching the Lieutenant. As much as he wanted to resort to violence, David knew it would not get him far.

It didn't take long for Killian Jones to be dragged into the sitting room. To his credit, the man held his head high despite the situation. 

"Let him go," David ordered, waving off the guards. "You may leave us."

"But sir--" The guard began, but his protest died on his lips when David raised hand. Just as they were trained to do, the obeyed their king. If only Jones had such deference. David waiting until they left before addressing the lieutenant.

"You must be Killian Jones," he said, studying the man before him. Jones was a few inches shorter than he, with dark hair cropped short and a neatly trimmed beard. 

"Aye, sir." Jones nodded, and held himself up a little straighter. "Sir, I would like to apologize to you. I've always valued good form, and though I stand by my feelings for your daughter, I did not act in such a way that was entirely honorable."

David considered his apology. He sounded sorry enough, but it didn't change the fact that Jones had absconded away with his daughter in the dark of the night. "What do you want, Jones?"

"I don't follow."

"I'm asking you what it is that you want." David crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't tell me that you don't want anything from me."

Jones considered his statement for a moment, and scratched behind his ear. "Your forgiveness, if you can grant it." 

David shook his head. "We're not discussing forgiveness. What is your price? You have to have one."

"My...price?" 

"Your price. How much would it take for you to leave?" David repeated, enunciating every world slowly. He hated himself for the offer, but he reasoned that this would be best for Emma in the long run. He could convince Jones to leave.

"There is no price." There was a hint of disbelief in Jones's voice. "The only way I would willingly leave is for Emma to will it."

"And you don't believe she will?"

"No," he replied. While David admired his apparent resoluteness, he still didn't trust the lieutenant. "Not willingly, at the least."

It seemed that Jones did not trust him either.

"I won't force my daughter into anything," David replied, gritting his teeth at the implication.

"And neither did I, but everyone presumes I did." Jones had since lost his respectable stance, standing with his hand on the buckle of his belt. That was not how one confronted a king, and it had been a long time since someone stood in front of him that way. "Is it so difficult to believe that Emma chose me on her own volition? You've imprisoned me, my brother -- _who is innocent_ \--, attempted to pay me off to leave her, but have you asked her what she wants? Where is she?"

His voice rose with every word, and David was taken aback by the display of passion. Maybe he underestimated the lieutenant. But he had to be sure his heart was true, and David did not appreciate being accused as if he were the one in the wrong. He wasn't, not with Emma at stake. 

But before he could answer, he heard a soft question of "Papa?"

Both David and Jones turned to see Emma standing in the doorway looking horrorstruck. Snow stood beside her looking equally disappointed, one arm wrapped around their daughter. Their appearance was not what he expected. He certainly didn’t want Emma here.

She looked so much older now, standing beside her mother. She had changed dresses from the drab clothing he had seen her in this morning. Her dress was red, well-fitted, her hair still loose past her shoulders. She looked like a woman, not the little girl he remembered teaching to ride a horse. He felt his cheeks color in shame at his daughter’s scrutiny, but he tried to tamp it down. Woman or not, he was doing what was best for her.

“Is it true? Did you offer Killian – did you offer _my husband_ money to leave?” His daughter’s voice trembled as she questioned him, and David could see the betrayal in her eyes. He wanted to answer her, to explain his reasons why, but he could not. That was answer enough for Emma, because she gasped sadly, her expression downturned, and said, “You did.”

“Emma—“ he began, but his words died in his throat. It was much easier to posture that he was right to Leo and to Jones than it was to Emma. When she was staring back at him with an expression of both hurt and anger, that’s when David began to feel doubt creeping up his spine.

It was his wife who saved him. Or so he thought.

“Emma,” she began, turning to better face their daughter, “why don’t you and Killian go to the kitchens. I’m sure the two of you are famished.”

For a moment, Emma looked as if she were about to argue. Her gaze kept shifting back, glaring daggers toward him, but she quickly relented, smiling sweetly at her mother.

“Yes, Mother,” she replied. She reached out her hand towards Jones, but her eyes continued to stay locked on David. “My husband and I will be going now.”

Jones followed, passing a quick glance back toward David before taking Emma’s hand in his own. They shuffled out of the room quickly, clearly eager to leave. David wasn’t fond of them scurrying off together unsupervised, especially after hearing Emma’s parting statement, but he held his tongue as they went. It was no use starting another fight, at least not without consulting with his wife. David took comfort in the fact that the castle was at the very least on high alert. It was doubtful Jones could get away with anything untoward, at least now.

“I don’t trust him,” David said the minute Jones was out the door. He crossed over to his wife. “Are you we should have let them go off together?”

“I trust my daughter,” Snow replied. There wasn’t any resignation in her voice. “And if that includes trusting her with him, then we need to accept that.”

David startled at Snow’s statement. “You can’t be serious.”

She was.

“Emma is almost a woman now, and a stubborn one at that,” she began. There was resignation in her voice, but love as well. “And I’m afraid that by forcing the issue, we will make her choose, and I don’t want to see the aftermath of that decision.”

David scoffed, “You don’t obviously believe she would choose him over her family.”

Snow’s expression turned dark and deadly serious. “Honestly, David, I don’t know who she would choose, but we’d lose her either way. She chooses him, she walks away from us. She chooses us, she will forever resent us for it. How are either of those a preferable outcome?”

“Because he’s here!” David argued despite knowing his wife had already won the debate. She was right that Emma was stubborn, and that forcing the issue of her relationship with Lieutenant Killian Jones would further drive a wedge into his family.

“And he’s here to stay.” Snow grasped his hands, squeezing them softly is assurance. “Believe me when I say I am not happy, but our daughter is, at least she believes she is with him. We have to accept that.”

“What if he hurts her?”

“Then we help heal her, but we can’t force them apart.”  
  
David squeezed her hands back. She was right. For the sake of their family’s unity, they would have to find some way accept Killian Jones into the fold. David just didn’t know how, especially since he didn’t like the man. “So what do we do now? With him?”

“The only thing we can do,” his wife replied. “Minimize the damage.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, it is CS AU week and today is Lieutenant Duckling Day, so I consider it fate this is my posting schedule. As such, this chapter is dedicated to @the-reason-to-sail-home . Thank you to all who have read my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk. Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan and @just-be-magnificent . You'd be remiss not to check out their art!

 

Killian was still reeling from his conversation with the king even after Emma pulled him out of the room and into one of the long hallways of the castle. The past few hours had been overwhelming to say the least. Barely twelve hours had passed since he and Emma whisked away into the night, and since then he had been married, enjoyed a thoroughly pleasing wedding night, been rushed from his marriage bed by his wife's brother, thrown in the dungeons, and then had his bride's father -- the king -- attempt to buy him off. Killian was honestly shocked he was still standing, and credited much of that feat to the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.   
  
Killian was relived to be freed from her father's interrogation. He was growing increasingly incensed by the king's accusations. Had he been in there too much longer and continued to have his honor and devotion to Emma questioned, Killian might very have done or said something he might regret. It was imperative that he remain calm in the presence of the king, especially now that he knew how the man perceived him. 

Distracted and overwhelmed as he was, Killian completely missed the fact that Emma was talking him until she took him by the shoulder and shook him. "Are you okay? I've been asking what happened with my father."

He opened his mouth to respond, but promptly closed it. He wasn't sure how to proceed with Emma. He didn't want to drive a wedge further between her and her family. He could lie, distort the truth of the matter, but that was hardly a way for one to start a marriage. Besides, Emma was quite adept at seeing through lies and mistruths. She would surely call his bluff. 

Killian already felt himself sagging under the weight of the daunting task before him. Winning over her parents would be difficult, and, at the moment, it seemed impossible. He knew he and Emma would have to present a united front, King David's opinion of him seemed set in stone. If he was half as stubborn as Emma, well, Killian may never win his approval.

"I don't think your father likes me very much," Killian finally confessed. Though his statement didn't quite encompass just how much her father appeared to dislike him, it was still the truth. 

"Well, we can work on that," Emma replied before biting her lip in thought. She began to pace down the hallway, her fingers clasped together. "While she's not happy, I think we have my mother on our side."

Killian peeked up at that. "Your mother? Really?"

A brilliant smile crossed Emma's face, belying the noncommittal shrug she gave. "She believes in the power of True Love."

"She thinks our love to be true?" Killian asked, once again approaching Emma. He grabbed her hands, twining their fingers together. It felt right to once again have her in his arms, to feel the press of his mother's ring against his skin. 

"Unfortunately not, or rather not yet," Emma replied, frowning slightly, "but she believes her love for me to be true, and that is enough for her to trust me."

Killian considered that to be as good as he was going to get at this point. He knew the sway a woman could hold over a man, and if Queen Snow was anything like her daughter, it was only a matter of time before the king could see things their way. Hope, which had left him in the castle's dungeon, began to once again surge through him.

Then, Killian remembered the dungeon -- and his brother. 

"Liam," he gasped suddenly. His brother had also been arrested, assumed to be in on the plot to "kidnap" the princess. 

Emma, who wasn't privy to this knowledge, eyed him with mirth dancing in her pretty green eyes. "Your brother? I suppose we'll have to tell him now. Hopefully he won't be too upset with us."

Guilt coursed through his veins at Emma's words and worry pricked at him. Emma looked quite excited to reveal their relationship to Liam. How could he tell her that his brother already knew, and was quite upset about their nuptials. But Liam's feelings on the matter hardly mattered at the moment, not while there were more pressing issues, namely his imprisonment.

"We have to let him out now," Killian insisted, urging Emma down the hallway through which the guards had led him. "He shouldn't be down there."

"Down where? Killian, wha--"

"Liam is in the dungeon because of us!" His words came out in a half-shout, and Killian felt instant remorse at the way he had snapped at Emma, his bride. She clearly didn't know of Liam's predicament, blissfully unaware that they were the cause. "He was imprisoned because they thought he was in on the plan to kidnap you."

"But I wasn't kidnapped."

"Your family didn't know that," Killian reminded her. 

Emma opened her mouth as if to argue, but seemed to think better of it. She brows were knitted in worry, but she was making no effort to move. Killian had half a mind to run down to the dungeon himself to free Liam. He didn't want his brother to stay down than any longer. No innocent man should, but especially not Liam. 

"It's not going to be as easy as just letting him out, you know," Emma finally said. 

Killian startled, dumbfounded at Emma's statement. "We can't just leave him down there."

"I'm not saying that," Emma snapped, clearly offended by his insinuation. "We're going to free him, we will, but I just want you aware that it won't be as simple after. That's all."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Killian asked. He was frustrated by Emma's hesitance. She had a brother, one she claimed to care about deeply. She should understand his desire to hurry and go now. 

"I'm saying that your brother has been arrested. Once we free him, he can't just go back to his ship. He needs to be cleared, things need to be made official. We can't just go raising hell," Emma argued. 

Killian scoffed. "You're the princess. Can't you just automatically pardon him?"

"First of all, there is a decorum and process about these things. We can't just 'automatically pardon him'." Emma sounded exasperated at her own explanation. 

"But he did nothing wrong!"

"We know that. We will just have to convince everyone else of that, and that means ensuring my parents are happy and the admiral is happy and--"

"Emma, it's my brother," he pleaded. The methodical way Emma spoke of the situation hurt. His brother wasn't just another obstacle to pass. He was Liam. He loved his brother dearly. And while Emma might not feel the same way to Liam, they were family now. 

He recalled his earlier annoyance when he discovered that she'd revealed their plans to her own brother. It had felt something like betrayal. Though Emma had explained that she only told Leo as a means for escape, Killian was still hurt that for a period, her brother knew while his own did not. It didn't feel fair, especially considering everything Liam had sacrificed for him. Is this how things were going to be going forward?

Emma, to her credit, appeared to be feeling guilty at his pleading. She reached out to him, but he pulled away in frustration, a look of hurt crossed her face, and Killian regretted his actions immediately. They hadn't been married for a full day, and now they were already arguing and hurting one another. They were hurting everyone, it seemed.

"Gods, we made a mess of things, didn't we?" He asked her, moving to lean against one of the castle walls for support. The large castle already felt suffocating, their actions weighing heavy on him. "Liam, your parents, one another."

Emma looked stricken at his confession. In a small voice, she asked, "You don't regret it, do you?"

By it, he knew she didn't mean their elopement. She was asking about more than that -- their marriage, courtship, her. He wanted to laugh, because it was such an absurd question. Despite his remorse for them hurting their loved ones, he was blackguard enough to do it all again. What kind of monster was he that knew the ramifications of his actions, yetstill desired to do it all again, all to sate his selfish wants.

"No, love," he said, rising from against the wall and crossing over to her, "nothing could make me regret you."

He made sure to kiss her then, to seal his words with his lips just as they had done with their vows the night prior. It was a simple and chaste thing, could be nothing more the way they were standing in the hallway. Surely a guard or servant would stumble by any minute and ruin the moment, but Killian still felt the need to kiss her, to mold his lips against hers.

When they broke away, he tipped up her chin and stared meaningfully at her. "Don't ever doubt that every moment of the day that I'm beyond elated to be yours. Nothing could change that."

She nodded, and Killian thought he could detect the hint of tears in her eyes. She did not let them flow freely, by instead she steeled herself and gripped at his shoulders. "So, should we go rescue Liam then?"

It was an apology, an olive branch, a sign that she had been listening to him, despite her reservations.

He nodded emphatically. "Aye, love, let's go."

They made their way through the maze of the castle toward where the entrances to the dungeons were located. The guards stationed on the top of the stairwell leading down eyed him carefully, but Emma's presence by his side kept them from saying anything. They wouldn't speak poorly of their princess' guest, no matter what they said in private.

It was then that Killian began to consider what Emma had been saying about Liam, and by proxy, him. Killian did not know the method by which Liam was arrested, if it was public or if he had been stolen away in the dark of the night. If any of their fellow sailors did see, or even a particularly nasty gossip, word would spread and Liam's reputation would be tarnished, no matter what the king or Admiral Woodhull claimed. Returning one's reputation to a respected status after it had been tarnished was an incredibly difficult task.

Killian's own reputation wasn't gleaming, at least among the royals. Emma's family already looked at him with distrust, and her father saw him as nothing more than a man out for gold. Her mother might have faith in True Love, but Emma had been quick to not give him false hope in where he lay in her affections. The only member of Emma's family who showed him any fondness aside from Emma herself was Leo.

He cringed thinking about his own brother's feelings toward Emma. They weren't positive. Though Liam had always spoken highly of the princess before, it was always in a way that a sailor may refer to his sovereign. There was no true affection present. How could there be? Liam hardly knew her, not that he ever had the chance. Ever since the truth of Killian's relationship with her had come out, and Liam paid the price, Killian doubted his brother would be the same. His words down in the dungeon's cell had been evidence enough of that fact. 

Maybe his and Emma's families were right-- maybe they both were too blinded by love to see just how they could hurt their other loved ones. Killian shoved that thought to the back of his mind. There was no use dwelling on that thought. What's done was done. Emma was his wife, and eventually their families would come around. 

Hopefully.

But for things to improve, they would first have to free Liam, and ensure his life wouldn't be too torn asunder because of their nuptials. But despite the urgency, he paused in the stairwell. Emma had raced down multiple steps before she registered his lack of movement. 

"What?" she asked, perplexed. 

Feeling that he should be completely honest with his bride -- they were all one another had in this situation, it seemed -- Killian took a deep breath. "He's not happy, Liam."

"About being imprisoned? I should hope not," Emma replied. Her reply was so innocent, and Killian wanted to laugh. 

"No, love, about us." Liam's statements about Emma replayed in his mind, making Killian wince. "He's not pleased with the situation."

Emma frowned. " The secrecy or..." 

"It'll be okay, darling, he'll come around. They all will," Killian told her, realized his words of assurance were just as much for him as they were for her. He kissed her softly, taking comfort in the press of his lips to hers. They could prove to their families their love for one another. Surely they would. 

Guards were stationed outside the dungeon, and they appeared shocked by the presence of Emma. It was quickly apparent that she had rarely visited this place, judging from the way they eyed her warily. Of course, their nervousness might have also been in response to his presence by her, and the unsubtle way she had entwined their hands when they had approached.

"Give me the key to Captain Liam Jones' cell," Emma demanded. There was a hint of authority to her voice, one that demanded obedience. She reached out her hand, palm upwards and quirked an eyebrow, daring them to disobey. As expected, they did not. 

Killian was not prepared for the sight of his brother in the cell. It was one thing being imprisoned with him, but it was another to see him alone. 

Killian held back the bile quickly rising in his throat.

For all his life, Liam had been his hero. In many ways, Killian credited the fact that he was alive to this day to his brother. After their father had abandoned them and sold them into slavery, Liam had done everything in how power to protect Killian, whether Killian felt he deserved it or not.  Now the roles are reversed, it seemed, with Killian having to protect his own elder brother from mistakes that weren't his own. 

Killian felt no better than his father. He tightened his grip on Emma's hand.

They approached the cell, but Liam did not acknowledge their movements. He was sitting against the wall, his face buried in his hands. 

"Liam," Killian called, banging against the bars of the cell to get his attention. "Liam, it's us. We're here to get you out."

Finally, Liam lifted his head, his eyes widening is recognition. His expression turned darker when he noticed Emma by Killian's side, the key in hand. She did not shrink from Liam's scrutiny. Instead, she stood s little straighter, and lifted the key. "We're here to get you out. You don't have to come with us, but I can't see why you would want to stay down here. The castle upstairs is cleaner and far less musty."

Emma jangled the keys for emphasis.

"By all means, Princess," he said, giving a curt nod. Killian watched as his brother pulled himself to his feet. Despite Liam's unhappiness with the situation, he still carried himself proudly as walked toward the cell door.

“Princess, are you certain this is what you want?” one of the guards called out, his hand on the hilt of the sword. He had been watching the proceedings. Killian tried to not feel too annoyed by the guard’s questioning – after all, the man was attempting to protect his sovereign, no matter how wrong he was – but it didn’t keep him from balling his hands into fist and biting his tongue to prevent a smart remark from coming it.

“Yes, Gerald, I’m sure,” Emma replied, her voice holding the same hint of authority as before. There was a sweetness to it, one Killian thought Emma had been trained to use. His wife then turned back to the cell door, unlocking it quickly, and allowing Liam to go free.

“Thank you, Princess.” The curtness was still there, and Liam looked toward Emma with no sense of dereference. It was clear to Killian that his brother was angry. What outlet he would use for that anger, Killian did not know.

Killian knew, however, that he needed to talk to his brother, but it couldn’t be here. Guards were standing by, still holding the swords as if they expected the brothers to attack the Crown Princess at any moment. Emma seemed to be thinking the same thing, because she suddenly announced, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. Why don’t we go upstairs to the kitchens to get something to snack on?”

“Sounds like a grand plan, love.” Killian nodded to his wife. Even without conversing they made quite the team “What say you, brother?”

Liam glanced between Emma and Killian, clearly trying to work out if the invitation was just that, an invitation. He seemed to come to the conclusion that it wasn’t that, but rather an order, and plastered on a smile that Killian instantly recognized as fake.

“Lead the way.”

-/-

Ever since Killian Jones had waltzed into her life, Emma had held a sort of odd fascination for his brother, Liam. While some might consider it strange for a woman to be enthralled by her lover’s brother, Emma considered him in only the most academic of terms. Liam, to her, was an idea less than a man, god-like if she were to take Killian’s assessments of his older brother into consideration. Due to the nature of her and Killian’s relationship, Emma had never really gotten the chance to interact with the elder Jones, so he became a sort of mythical creature in her mind.

Killian’s dynamic with his brother was incredibly foreign to her. She had a brother of her own, one she dearly loved, but Emma knew that Leo would never speak of her the way Killian spoke of Liam. The one fault of Liam that Killian had expressed to her was his protectiveness, and the way he talked reminded her more of how she would complain about her parents than her brother would speak of her.

What she knew of him, she had learned from Killian, and her husband was hardly an unbiased source. Understandable, given the circumstances of his and the role his brother had played in it. Emma didn’t know everything about Killian’s past, but he had told her enough for her to feel great sympathy for him. His father had sold both him and Liam into slavery when Killian was a young boy, and he’d stayed a slave for years before escaping with his brother and joining the Royal Navy. Liam’s presence had been a lifeline for Killian, and Killian had told her many times that he would have died or turned to piracy without his brother’s influence.

Because of Killian’s reverence, Emma had always wanted to learn more about Liam, and not second hand. She’d been looking forward to their relationship coming to light so she could get a chance to speak with the man face-to-face, to thank him for practically raising the man she so dearly loved. Except, according to Killian, that man now thought incredibly poorly of her. Judging by the harsh expressions Liam was throwing her way coupled with the brusque tone in his voice whenever he addressed her, it was obvious that Killian wasn’t far from the mark.

Everything was such a mess.

She comforted herself with the knowledge that she had convinced her mother to support her decision. It was a tenuous alliance at best, but an alliance all the same. She trusted her mother to win over her father’s blessing, and to put this whole ordeal behind them, allowing her and Killian to relax into wedded bliss. Emma doubted things would be that easy, especially after everything that had occurred that morning, but it was a pretty thought, one she could hold onto at moments like these. She had her mother and brother, and she had Killian. Her father and Liam would come along, wouldn’t they?

Truthfully, she was most concerned with Liam’s acceptance. Her father was a stubborn man, but he loved her dearly. They’d always shared a special sort of bond, and her mother and Aunt Red used to remark how she had him wrapped around her tiniest finger, to which her father would respond that he was proud to be. Of course, the situations in which she could break her father’s resolve often involved additional sugary treats, extra rides around the castle, and nights staying up listening to stories before bed. Marriage was a different matter, but between her and her mother, he would surely come around.

Liam was a different matter, however. His and Killian’s bond was forged in fire, half-parental and half-fraternal. Liam had been Killian’s protector for so long that it was sure to be difficult allowing him to lead his own life, and Emma had been one of the driving forces in the biggest decision of Killian’s life, one which Liam was not privy to. The whole affair had to be a shock and source of resentment which Liam had never felt before.

Still, Emma did not enjoy being disliked. She was not naïve enough to believe that everyone who encountered her would adore her, but she hoped the brother of the man she loved would find her a fine match. At the very least, she had hoped that Liam would recognize how much Killian loved her, and would find that sufficient enough reason to like her. But no, that was not Liam Jones’ mode of operation when it came to others. This was going to be much more difficult than Emma thought. Thankfully, she had never shied away from a challenge before, especially when the prize was so valuable.

There was a small, paranoid part of her that worried that somehow Liam’s distaste of her would drive a wedge between her and Killian. She’d experienced hints of that fear earlier in the hallway, with Killian’s panic at rescuing his brother from the dungeons overriding anything she said on the matter. Emma didn’t want Liam to be the subject of any more of her and Killian’s disagreements. Killian loved his brother dearly, and she was afraid of making him choose between the two of them. Liam was Killian’s hero. Killian worshiped the ground he walked on. What would happen if he didn’t think her to be an adequate bride?

It was silly. Truly. Killian loved her and he promised that nothing would ever change his feelings toward her. He was telling the truth when he was telling her those things. Besides, he had chosen her when they decided to run away to elope. But having his brother hate his wife could very well take an emotional toll on Killian for which he wasn’t prepared, and that was something Emma did not wish to see happen. She would simply have to make Liam like her, not only for her sake, but for Killian’s as well.

This was already proving to be a difficult task, however.

They were currently seated in the castle’s dining area, eating breads and cheeses Emma had scavenged from the kitchens. Emma had considered requesting foods with more substance, but she shirked under the curious gazes of the kitchen staff. It was obvious that the gossip had spread through the castle like wildfire, and Emma was quickly becoming annoyed by the whole thing. She could deal with the scrutiny from her parents, but she hated the whispers of the servants and guards, judging her and Killian. Emma wondered when, if ever, they would stop.

They’d have to someday. Killian was here to stay, and soon enough she’d have the support of both her parents. Once that came to pass, both she and Killian could relax in their marriage. There would someday be children, and eventually, she would become Queen, with him being her Prince Consort. Even Emma knew he’d never be allowed to be or accepted as King, but he’d still be by her side.

But until then, Emma realized she had to be patient. Too bad patience was a never a virtue of hers. She supposed that was why she was prattling on to Liam and Killian about her favorite pastries. It wasn’t a particularly intelligent conversation, but it was better than sitting in complete silence with Liam glaring and Killian looking so forlorn.

“Oh, you will have to try the cinnamon rolls that Remy – he’s our head chef – makes. They’re to die for.”

“A little hyperbolic, don’t you think?” Liam asked. Killian shot his brother a glare as Emma deflated.

“I’m looking forward to trying them soon, Emma,” Killian told her. He reached out to grab her hand, and a surge of affection for her husband. Liam, however, did not feel the same way toward Killian as she, and he continued to frown throughout the exchange.

“I wouldn’t get my hopes too high, Killian,” he warned. He tapped his fingers on the table, a habit Emma recognized as one similar to those Killian exhibited. Both brothers seemingly grew fidgety when agitated. Emma wished that she were not the object of that agitation. “After all, you don’t know when you’ll end up in the dungeons again. I’m sure dear _Remy_ ,” Liam spat the chef’s name with disdain, “wouldn’t be sending you any pastries. Or maybe he might. They are, as Emma said, to die for.”

“Excuse me!”

Emma cheeks were flushed with anger at Liam’s accusations. How dare he imply that Killian would once again be going to the dungeons. He would not. She wouldn’t allow it. She wouldn’t have allowed it the first time, had she known. Once everything died down, she was going to have a word with her father about his unkind treatment of Killian. Killian didn’t deserve his treatment from her family, and she didn’t deserve anything from Liam either. Killian’s brother or not, he would not speak to her that way.

“Killian will not be going to the dungeons again,” Emma announced, trying very hard to maintain her composure despite feeling like screaming. That was not how royalty behaved, and she was a princess, damn it. “It was a mistake he was there the first time, and I will see to it that nothing of the sort happens again. So, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Considering mine and my brother’s imprisonment wasn’t the only mistake made recently, I’d say there’s plenty to worry about, Your Highness.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest. Despite referring to her as royalty, his words were full of venom. That was not how one was to address royalty, let alone family.

Speaking of family, Emma glanced to Killian. He wasn’t looking at her, but rather his brother, wearing an expression that was sad mixture of hurt and betrayal. He had thankfully yet to let go of her hand, but he wasn’t speaking either. It was strange because Killian was usually quite talkative, almost to a fault, but now he was silent. Emma thought back to her earlier fears of Liam driving a wedge between them. She squeezed his hand tighter in reassurance. Whether it was for him or for her, she did not know.

“I think you’re the one who is being hyperbolic now, Liam,” Emma said finally. She straightened in her chair, her meal forgotten. She had quickly lost her appetite.

“Am I?” Liam asked. “Because the way I see it, since running away with you, both my brother and I have ended up in the dungeons. We both have been manhandled by guards, because you thought it would be fun to play around with someone below you. What happens the next time you are bored, Princess? Will he end up in the gallows?”

Emma recoiled as if she had been slapped. “How dare you?” she gasped. “How could you possibly believe—I just—how can you sit there and accuse me of such frivolity and mindlessness. I love him!”

Liam laughed, the sound hollow and mocking. “Is that what you tell yourself to feel better about what you’re putting my brother through?”

“ENOUGH!”

Both Liam and Emma jumped at Killian’s shout. To Emma’s dismay, he untangled his hand from hers, leaving her feeling cold and bereft. She felt like she was about to cry, the tiny pinpricks of tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, but she swore she would not cry. She would not give Liam that satisfaction. Not now. Not after all the cruel things he said to her. Liam, however, seemed hell-bent on further wringing a reaction from her, dismissing Killian’s shout and barreling on.

“Brother, I’m only saying things for your own good. I know you think you love her, but—“

“I do love her,” Killian cut in, agitated. “It’s not think, I know.”

Emma felt a wave of gratitude toward Killian. He was sticking up for them, not just toward her father, but to her brother, as well. “We both love one another,” she announced, feeling the need to further stand by her husband.

“You _think_ you love one another.”

“I _think_ you’re stepping out of line, brother.” Killian’s voice was full grit, and Emma watched as he balled his fists against the table. This was not going how she had hoped.

Whatever Liam was about to say next, however, was interrupted when her parents swept into the room – another unexpected development. Liam hastily stood in deference to the king and queen, as was expected, but Emma and Killian stayed rooted in place. Nervousness knotted in Emma’s belly. She wasn’t prepared for the day to get any worse. While she believed she had her mother’s full support, and she trusted the woman’s sway over her father, Emma’s interactions spoke to her cynical side, and she worried she had misjudged everyone.

“Oh good, we found you.” Her mother smiled brightly. After Queen Snow’s show earlier that morning, Emma doubted her mother’s sincerity. Her mother glanced over to Liam. “I see you’ve picked up a friend.”

“Captain Liam Jones, Your Majesty.” Liam bowed. At least he was being polite to her mother. “Killian – Lieutenant Jones – is my little brother.”

From beside her, Emma could hear Killian murmur “younger,” and she had to stifle a giggle. Now would not be the time to laugh. Her parents exchanged glances, and Emma wondered how much her mother knew of Liam’s imprisonment. Liam was innocent in the whole affair, and her mother had a strict sense of justice. Surely she would be upset. Then again, she thought the same of her father and look at what he put Killian through.

“It is lovely to once again make your acquaintance, Captain Jones,” the queen replied kindly. “It seems our families will be seeing more of one another now considering the news.”

“I—uh—I suppose.”

“Yes, well, one of the best parts of a marriage is two families coming together,” her father said, the frown on his face belying his words.

Emma’s heart pounded wildly in her chest as she listened to the exchange before her. Was she imagining the words she was hearing? Were her parents truly talking about her marriage to Killian with acceptance?

Liam looked shocked by her parents’ pronouncement. Was he looking for an ally in the king and queen? At least Liam knew to treat them with more deference than her. Why did Killian have to be related to _him_?

“Anyway,” her father began, looking deeply uncomfortable but resigned to reality, “Killian, if you’ll come with me, we have a few matters to attend to.”

“You’re not going to try and pay him off again, are you?” Emma snapped.

Her father flushed at her suggestion, and shook his head. “Ah, no, we have things to discuss with Admiral Woodhull. Captain Jones, you can join us, if you wish. I imagine you’ll be wanting to speak to the Admiral, as well.”

“I would appreciate that, Your Highness,” Liam said, looking grateful.

Emma, on the other hand, wasn’t grateful. She had taken Killian’s hand in her own, gripping tightly. She didn’t really wish to see Killian go with her father and leave her again. Bad things seemed to happen when they were separated. He disagreed, however, and extricated himself from her grip.

“I’ll be fine, love,” he told her, grinning widely. In a low voice, he added, “Besides, it will give me a chance to speak more with my brother.” He kissed her on the cheek before rising, a bold move in front of her family.

Her father had turned her away at this. He obviously wasn’t dealing well with the whole thing. Emma wondered if he would ever fully accept them. She hoped he did.

“Am I to get my husband back after his meeting with the Admiral?” Emma asked. Killian might think the meeting could be something good, but she was still wary.

“We’ll all plan to have an early dinner tonight as a family to discuss things going forward,” Snow explained. Her tone told Emma to accept this and not fight. For once, Emma relented.

“I’ll see you soon, darling,” Killian promised.

As she watched him leave with her father and his brother, Emma prayed he would keep that promise.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for another update! Thank you all for your comments and niceness! his story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk. Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan and @just-be-magnificent .

Years ago, as their mother lay on her deathbed, Liam Jones promised her that he would take care of Killian. He had been ten then, Killian barely two years of age. As such, being the child that he was, Liam had no clue or context as to what it meant to protect his brother. At that age, he was still in need of protecting himself. But Mother had died of sickness, and Father was in and out of the picture – a scoundrel and layabout if there ever was one – forcing Liam to learn what it truly meant to protect one’s brother. Of course, once Father sold them both into slavery – such children they had been – the weight had completely fallen onto Liam’s shoulders.

At that point, they were all each other had left in the world. Certainly Captain Silver didn’t care about them, or at the very least, he didn’t care for them as boys. As property, sure, but he and the rest of the free crew treated Liam and Killian as nothing more than cattle. It was that treatment that inspired Liam to push harder to free him and Killian, especially once he realized Killian had turned to darker vices – gambling and alcohol – to soothe the pain. Often, Liam wondered if he had failed Killian and broken his promise to their mother by allowing his younger brother to find himself in such a state. He soothed himself by believing it would all be worth it if he could free both himself and Killian from the chains that bound them. Only then could he ensure that Killian would be on the straight and narrow.

And free themselves he did!

Liam might have used questionable methods, but he kept his promise to Mother. He did everything within his power to protect Killian, and it paid off. They joined the Royal Navy of Misthaven. Both he and Killian received proper educations. They learned languages! They sailed to different realms together on the flagship vessel of Misthaven, _The Jewel of the Realm._ Most important, they were both safe and secure, or rather, as safe and secure as Navy men could be. Everything was perfect.

Or so he thought.

Liam should have known Killian was hiding something from him. Looking back, all the signs were there. Liam had long ago figured out that Killian was hiding a lass, but he had no idea who held his brother’s affections. Had he realized that it was the princess – _the princess!_ – he would have put a stop to it. Liam had sworn to Mother that he would protect Killian, and gods, if this was how Killian behaved while in love, then he surely needed protecting.

Princess Emma was a beautiful lass. That was something Liam could not deny. But it was one thing to admire the princess from afar. It was another to secretly court her. It was treason. Killian could be hanged. He’d already been imprisoned for the act, and though the king was now acting as if the relationship was fine, Liam knew well enough not to trust them.

Gods, why didn’t he act when he saw the signs?

When they crew frequented taverns, Killian refrained from flirting with the wenches, even the ones who fawned over him, spilling their bosoms practically in his face. He’d disappear for hours on end when they were station at port. If Liam had asked about the girl, would Killian have told him? Every now and then, Liam would spot Killian rushing back to the ship, hair out of the place and jacket askew. He’d said nothing then, believing that Killian would have told him when the time was right. How foolish he’d been to believe such a thing!

Maybe Killian’s vices weren’t as removed as Liam believed. His brother had a self-destructive streak, gambling away his silver and freedom more than once. Who was he to say that this affair with the princess wasn’t another one of those actions? Did he honestly believe that the princess would want him as her husband, that this wasn’t some distraction for him to warm her bed until she was forced to marry for real? Their “marriage”, if they could call it that, surely had to be a scam of sorts. Even if it was true, there was nothing to stop the king and queen from annulling it if they so desired. What then? Where would that leave Killian? Nowhere good, that was for sure.

Of course, Liam couldn’t understand why the king and queen were now seemingly going along with the plan, speaking of Killian like he was an actual member of their family. He wasn’t. Surely they didn’t plan to legitimize the marriage. Killian was in no way prepared to handle the complexities of running a kingdom, and the princess was in no way mature enough to handle the complexities of marriage. They had run away together, hidden their affair from the people who loved them. Was this supposed to make Liam believe that their love was True? Why hide something so momentous?

Liam’s stomach sank at the thought of the circumstances that could have prompted the marriage. He had no doubt that his brother was bedding Princess Emma. If Killian was already “courting” her in secret, there would be no reason to adhere to propriety. Could she have realized she was with child, forcing his brother to do right by her? Liam doubted she would be so diabolical to intentionally get herself pregnant – that would be the worst case scenario for everyone. But it could be a possibility. She couldn’t possibly want to marry Killian, not when she had riches and an entire kingdom at her disposal. Liam had attended enough balls to know the line of suitors waiting for her. Why choose a Naval lieutenant as her spouse unless forced to avoid scandal?

It would also explain why her parents were entertaining the idea of even allowing them to wed. If their daughter was in a delicate condition, keeping the father around would be the best avenue for preserving Emma’s reputation. Liam knew the power the king and queen held. They could easily nullify the wedding if they so desired. But they weren’t. _Why?_

He supposed the alternative was better than his brother being hanged. When Liam had been dragged from bed by the king’s guards, he’d assumed the worst, or that his brother had been framed. How angry he had been to discover that the ordeal wasn’t miscommunication, but that Killian had actually run away with the princess? Did he really raise his own brother to be so mindless?

He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Not here. Not in the castle surrounded by everyone. Guards. The King. The Princess. Danger lurked around every corner. King David and Queen Snow were fine rulers and Liam was proud to serve them, but at the end of the day, he and Killian were nothing to them, just two lowly naval officers. In the grand scheme of things, they were nothing. They could disappear, and it would hardly affect the royal family.

The Brothers Jones were replaceable.

This was why Liam kept a cool head. Regardless of what happened with Killian and the princess, Liam needed to act in such a way that would best protect both his and his brother’s lives. Killian might very well be on a self-destructive streak, but Liam was not. If that meant putting on his best behavior around the royal family and Admiral Woodhull, then so be it.

This morning, he had been set to meet with Admiral Woodhull. There were whispers that the Admiral of the fleet intended to give him more responsibility. Captain of the fleet, perhaps? That dream was almost assuredly gone now, considering he was now a conspirator to treason.

Liam wondered what the crew of the _Jewel_ knew…if anything. He’d been stolen out of his quarters quickly, and it wasn’t a public conflict, but if someone had seen something…

He knew how rumors flew. He also knew the lack of respect he’d receive if his crew knew he’d even been a suspect in a high crime such as this. It would hurt his standing among the men. His reputation, the one he worked so desperately to build, could be ruined. And what would that mean for his future?

Liam was surprised when King David suddenly stopped in front of him. He’d been too caught up in his own concerns to realize where they were walking. The King had led them down a long corridor and they stood outside large wooden double doors, flanked by guards. Liam never realized how many guards were in the castle. Was this normal or a response to Princess Emma’s disappearance?

The guards bowed before the King and cast wary glances toward both Liam and Killian. Their distrust was evident, not that Liam blamed them. One of the guards, a large burly man opened the doors, announcing, “King David is here, with Lieutenant Killian Jones and…” he trailed off, confused.

“Captain Liam Jones,” Liam announced.

Admiral Woodhull appeared at once. Despite his age, Admiral Woodhull normally looked young for his age, his dark hair only sprinkled with gray. Today, he looked every bit his years, deep circles under eyes. It was clear the man was stressed, and Liam knew that there was no doubt Killian’s shenanigans were to blame.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” the Admiral said, glancing over at Liam. Looking shamefaced, he added, “I apologize if our meeting didn’t work out as planned. As you know, things happen.”

 _‘Things happen’_ meaning Killian running off with the princess, and everyone expecting Liam was also to blame. Regardless, he forced a smile and said, “I understand, Admiral.”

“Good.” Admiral Woodhull nodded. “Well, the king wishes for me to speak to Lieutenant Jones, so, nice seeing you.”

“I was hoping we could discuss our earlier meeting…after you speak with my brother.”

Admiral Woodhull appraised him carefully, not quite meeting his eyes. Liam wondered if the man felt guilty for his role in his imprisonment. “Ah, yes, we probably should. But, first, Lieutenant Jones, may I have a word?”

“Aye, Sir.”

And with that, Killian and Admiral Woodhull disappeared behind the large doors. With Killian gone, Liam was left alone with King David. He'd never been left alone with the king before. He wasn't sure what to do from here, outside of waiting for Killian. The king appeared to have other plans however, and he sighed.

"It will still be some time yet before your brother and the Admiral finish. Would you like a drink?"

"A drink?" Liam felt flabbergasted by the king's question. He debated which was better form: drinking with the king or turning down his proposal. Surely drinking with the king wouldn't be proper. But the king looked so weary, about as weary as Liam felt, so he agreed.

King David led him further down the long corridor to the library. There was already a decanter of amber liquid sitting on the tables with various glasses. The king poured himself a generous amount, and then a glass for Liam.

"To the future, I guess," the king said, raising his glass. In a haze, Liam clinked his own against the king's and took a long sip. It was rum and it burned his throat. Good.

"You don't sound too happy about that future," Liam observed. Despite his earlier statements about marriage and the family, Liam was surprised by the way the king's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the table.

"What gave it away?" the king asked with a laugh. "My daughter ran away in the dead of the night to marry a man I don't ever remember meeting, and she has my wife convinced we should somehow support it."

"You don't?" This aligned more with how Liam perceived the king feeling, if his earlier imprisonment was anything to go by. So, King David really was putting on an act for his family earlier. 

"Do you?" The king asked. His drink still in hand, he began to pace the room. "My wife is convinced that by not supporting them, we could lose Emma. And she's not entirely wrong. My daughter is quite spirited."

"But?"

The king sighed. He looked down at his drink, and swirled the liquid in its glass. "But to be honest, there's nothing I'd like more than to introduce your brother my to fist."

It might have been rude, a prime example of bad form, but Liam laughed. The king looked surprised, but Liam waved him off. "As his older brother, I can assure you that the desire to punch my him comes often."

The king appraised him carefully. "You aren't defending him. Your own brother?"

"Should I?" 

"He's your brother," the king replied, and for the first time, Liam felt a bit of shame. But then the king shook his head. "Of course, being a brother doesn't mean much all the time, does it?" He had a faraway look that Liam couldn't quite place, half-wistful, half-melancholy.

"I love Killian. I would lay down my life for him," Liam explained, feeling defensive. He didn't like the king questioning his honor. "But, I can also admit when my brother made a mistake. He put both of our lives at risk, and while I am sure your daughter is a lovely woman, I don't believe the secrecy was worth it."

He had to choose his words carefully. He could let tell King David that he placed most of the blame on his daughter's shoulders, that he viewed her as a siren that lured his brother to devastation. He still didn't entirely trust the king, despite the comradery he was showing. King David held all the power.

He must have masked his feelings well enough, because the next thing the king said was, "I think that's what gets to me the most. The secrecy of it all. Did I do something to make Emma not trust me?"

The king was quite distraught by this, Liam could tell. Liam understood. He viewed Killian's own secrecy as an admission of fault. If their coupling was "right", "true", and whichever other adjectives they chose, there would have been no reason to hide their love. Despite his own thoughts, he told the king, "I ask the same thing about my brother."

The king walked over to Liam, and placed his hand on his shoulder. It was a fatherly gesture. "I do apologize for what happened with you earlier. I was a bit out of my mind. My daughter was missing, and well, it wasn't right of me."

"I appreciate the apology," Liam replied. He wasn't going to say he understood, or lie in an attempt to make the king feel better. He had been an innocent man, and his reputation was likely tarnished as a result. The least King David could do was apologize.  
  
Liam had always felt admiration for the king and queen. In terms of sovereigns to serve, they acted just and kind. In their youth they toppled an evil regime, and since then they never once succumbed to the temptations of power. Those were traits that Liam admired. They made a mistake in their earlier treatment of him, but they acknowledged it as a mistake.  
  
It was more than Liam could say about the woman his brother opted to wed.

To be perfectly honest, Liam felt sympathy for the king. Killian’s misdeeds were not his fault, and his daughter was adult enough to make her own mistakes. King David was clearly grieving in his own way, hurt and confused by the secret affair. How could Killian and the princess not see or care about the pain they were causing?

Liam emptied his glass. He itched to drink more, but with the meeting with the Admiral upcoming, he knew he needed to keep his head clear.

“What’s your brother like?”

Liam was startled by the question, although he knew he shouldn’t be. The king clearly knew nothing about Killian, and as his brother, Liam was likely the best source of information. But what could he say? Anger at Killian still coursed through him, though Liam doubted that was what the king wanted to hear.

“He’s passionate,” Liam said finally. “I’m sure that much is obvious to you, all things considered. But it can’t be understated. When he truly cares about something, he gives it his all. He finished near the top of his class at the Naval Academy despite no proper schooling beforehand.”

The king looked thoughtful. “What was your life like before the Navy?”

Liam winced. He wasn’t fond of sharing his past. Whenever he did in the past, he’d often received pitying looks. He hated pity. But this was the king, and if It gave him greater insight into Killian, then so be it. “If I must confess it wasn’t pretty. Our father…he sold us when we were young. In short, I had to raise Killian, and you can imagine the toll it took on both of us. We managed to buy our freedom eventually, and we joined the Navy.”

“And now you both sail on the flagship vessel of Misthaven,” the king commented. He appraised Liam with a look of admiration. “That takes a lot of drive on both your parts.”

“Aye. When you come from nothing, you have to fight to have anything resembling something.”

This was what angered him most about Killian’s betrayal. Together they’d fought so hard, overcome so many obstacles only to lose it all for some time between a woman’s thighs. Liam couldn’t comprehend how the risk of secretly courting the princess could be worth losing everything they’d worked so hard to achieve – _he’d_ worked so hard to achieve.

Liam had been the one to make most of the sacrifices. He’d been the one to raise Killian after their father had abandoned them. He had been the one to face the lash to keep his young brother safe. He’d completed their assigned tasks without complaint. As much as Liam had wanted to drown his sorrows over the years, throw away virtue and give in to his vices, he’d abstained, because he knew the moment that he gave way to weakness, both his and Killian’s lives would be in danger. So he avoided drinking, he turned up his nose at gambling, and he’d even refrained from taking tumbles with the lovely wenches that caught his eye. Nothing was tantamount to his and Killian’s survival and success. _Nothing._

Only Killian never saw it that way, did he?

Killian disobeyed orders. He drank. He gambled. To be honest, Liam was surprised he’d even made it through the Naval Academy, but Killian had sworn he wouldn’t squander the second chance that he’d been given. And Liam had begun to believe him. They’d both worked hard, moving their way up in the ranks to both serve on the kingdom’s flagship vessel. But not even a year after, Liam had been arrested because the kingdom thought he’d been an accessory for treason.

Had it all been a lie? Did he really think too much of Killian? Would his brother perpetually spiral out of control? And how much more could Liam be affected? He’d suffered the lash, almost lost his freedom more than once, and now this. Should things go pear shaped with the princess, what then? Her parents seemed amenable now, but could they change their mind?

“May I ask a question, Your Highness?”

“There’s no need to ask permission.” The king waved him on, bemused. There was actually a need, it was good form, but Liam appreciated the semblance of camaraderie. He knew of the king’s history – that he wasn’t a proper royal, born and bred – and Liam supposed that resulted in his geniality. It was equally nice and off-putting.   
  
“How can you support this?” Liam gestured vaguely with the glass in his hand. “Killian…the princess…Forgive me, I don’t understand why you’re going along with it. It can’t be just because the queen is worried you’ll lose your daughter.”

King David was quiet for a long moment, and Liam wondered if he had stepped out of line. It would just be his luck to do so, but he needed to understand. How could the man who wanted to imprison him and Killian earlier in the morning be so willing to hand off his only daughter hours later? It made my no sense.

“I’m going along with it because Emma is my daughter,” the king began. He steepled his fingers in thought. “Am I happy? Absolutely not. But at the end of the day, Emma is still my daughter. I raised her to trust herself, her heart, and according to her, her heart has chosen your brother.”

“So you’re willing to let your daughter and my brother continue your relationship because you trust her?”

“Believe it or not, yes,” the king replied. A look worry then crossed his face. “Do you not trust your brother?”

In that moment, Liam knew his answer.

It was no.

-/-

“Let me get this straight – you want to me be Captain of the fleet?”

Killian sat gobsmacked as he attempted to process what Admiral Woodhull had told him. Captain of the fleet? But how? It wasn’t even a direct promotion. Killian hadn’t even served as Captain of his own vessel. How could he be expected to captain an entire fleet? Surely he needed more experience, increased knowledge. This was a position that Liam had been coveting dearly. Of the Brothers Jones, Liam was the one with both the experience and accolades. Men would follow Liam into battle. They respected him. As flattered as Killian felt, he was also very well aware that he was in no way qualified.

Admiral Woodhull, it seemed, agreed.

“I don’t want you to be Captain of the fleet –“

Oh.

“–were it up to me, you’d be hanged by now –“

Well then.

 _“_ –Despite mine and others’ misgivings, the king and queen see fit to honor the sham that you and the princess call a marriage –“

That was a minor relief.

“– and as such it has now become my duty to ensure that the princess will be married to someone of a respectable station.”

That explained some things. So, he wasn’t receiving the promotion because he earned it, but rather because the kingdom wanted to save face regarding his marriage to Emma. Killian knew he ought to be happy, to accept what was handed to him because it meant he still had Emma, but he quailed at the thought of being given something he didn’t deserve.

“Then I can’t accept it,” he said. He couldn’t. The position belonged to Liam, and if not Liam, someone else who’d actually done something other than sneak away with the princess. “Choose someone else.”

“If I could, believe me I would.” The Admiral pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is my job to protect the kingdom, and protect it I shall. This includes ensuring that you are placed in an admirable position.”

Killian didn’t quite understand. “By promoting someone with lower qualifications?”  
  
The Admiral looked as if he wanted to throttle him, and Killian was grateful for the table that separated them. He didn’t understand how this was supposed to help anything, or anyone. And if he was already married to Emma, what did his rank matter?

 

“I know of your scores in your exams, boy. You aren’t that stupid,” Woodhull gritted out. Killian bristled at being called a boy, but held his tongue. Now was not the time to argue on that point, no matter how much he wanted to. “I’m trying to protect the princess’ reputation. It would be best if as few people as possible knew she was gallivanting around with a _lieutenant_.”

 

“But she _was_ , and it shouldn’t matter,” Killian argued. He’d never been good at holding his tongue. “Her father was a goddamn shepherd.”

 

“You will not speak of your sovereign in such a way!” Admiral Woodhull slammed his fist down on the table. “Situations were different, and our kingdom was at war. Besides, it was the king who requested we do something about your rank.”

That only meant that Killian would have to take his opposition with his promotion up with Emma’s father. He quailed at the thought. The last conversation he had with him had resulted in the king accusing him of only being with the princess for the money, and that was only after he’d been arrested with treason. Now that Emma’s parents had accepted their relationship, or were at the very least allowing them to stay wed, Killian was loathe to disrupt the delicate balance he found himself in. But he considered himself a man of honor. How could he accept a promotion he didn’t deserve?

“We’ll be giving you the _Jewel_ , of course.”  
  
That pulled Killian from his thoughts.

“That’s Liam’s ship,” he said slowly.

“No, it’s the kingdom’s ship. Your brother is its current captain, but as its the kingdom’s flagship vessel, it only makes sense that the princess’ paramour—“

“ _Husband_.”

“—would be captaining her.”

“Won’t it be suspect that I’m suddenly the Captain?” Killian asked.

The Admiral waved him off. “Yes, but I’ve seen your scores from the academy. You would be considered for a promotion sooner or later, and you’re well respected among your men.”

“Thank you.” Killian smiled at the compliment.

“Of course, current events have me questioning your judgment.” Killian’s smile quickly faded to a frown. Admiral Woodhull continued on for some time after that outlining just what was expected of Killian. He’d travel to various ports in the kingdom to “make nice”. He wouldn’t be expected to fight in any battles should the kingdom go to war. Not initially, anyway. His role would more or less be ceremonial.

“Then what’s the point in being in the Navy?” Killian asked, agitated. He didn’t want to be anyone’s show horse. He wanted to be his own man. He knew that once he married Emma he would expected to take a step back from some things, but this sounded like too much.

“The point, Jones, is to be seen and to be respected. You are not a prince. You have no title, nor any land. Your position in the Navy is all you have, and even then it won’t be good enough for most,” the Admiral explained. He spoke in such a way that made Killian think the man thought he was stupid. Killian clenched his fists to his side, his fingers digging into his palms to keep from lashing out. “I don’t enjoy having to make these decisions. I find the whole thing to be an insult to this fine Navy and the kingdom, but as I said before, I must do what I am able.”

“And that means _this_.”

“Yes.”

 _This_ meant promoting him without cause. _This_ meant handing over Liam’s ship. _This_ meant essentially neutering him as a Naval officer. _This_ meant whatever else would come due to his relationship with Emma.

Killian reminded himself that Emma was worth it. She was always worth it.

Still, he didn’t have to be entirely happy about the situation either.

The meeting continued on for a bit, with Admiral Woodhull finally telling him to leave. Killian could tell that Admiral Woodhull was growing increasingly frustrated by the meeting, just as Killian was himself. After leaving the Admiral, Killian stood in the corridor, dazed. He felt overwhelmed and guilty, unsure of how to proceed next. Could he go to the king and discuss the matter? What would he tell Liam? One thing was for sure, he knew he and to talk to his brother first, force him to understand that he didn't ask for this. 

"I will fix this, brother," he mumbled under his breath. He just needed to figure out how. 

Killian was perceptive enough to know that he was in a precarious position. He couldn't offend the king, not when he was on the cusp of getting everything he wanted. But he also knew that he couldn't further alienate Liam. His brother had done so much for him already. Killian couldn't just take his promotion and his ship, especially since he hadn't done anything to deserve it.

Not that Killian didn't believe he was capable. He certainly was. It wasn't chance that alongside Liam, he had worked his way up the ranks. He'd worked hard, studied, trained, done everything asked of him. He'd dreamed of someday captaining his own ship. That's what bothered him most: one of his dreams had been handed to him on a silver platter, and it was in no way how he wanted.   
  
Had it just been last night that he had married Emma and had not a care in the world? How quickly things had changed. 

He sighed, leaning against the corridor walls. Liam was nowhere to be seen, and neither were the guards who had been standing outside. Knowing Liam would be coming back to speak to their admiral, Killian decided to stay put. That way, he could catch Liam before his meeting and warn him. He didn't want to imagine what it would be like going in blind. It was enough of a shock for Killian, and he'd been the one receiving good news. Liam would be hearing the opposite. 

What kind of brother was he?

He waited what felt like hours before Liam proceeded down the hallway. His brother stood tall, self-assured, and his mouth was drawn in a thin line of determination. Killian wondered where he had gone. 

"Liam," he called, pushing himself away from the wall. He approached Liam, but his older brother waved him off.

"Not now, little brother," Liam said, not even sparing him a second glance. Killian did not allow this to deter him.

"Liam, wait, about your meeting--" Killian reached out to grab his brother. Liam jerked his arm away. 

"Killian, you've done enough today, haven't you?" His words were clipped, and Killian instantly recognized his brother's "captain" voice. It was the one he used whenever he wanted to exert his authority over Killian. 

He won't have authority over me much longer, Killian thought darkly. 

He pushed it away. Now was not the time to think such things. 

"We need to talk now," Killian urged. 

Liam rolled his eyes. "There are many things we needed to talk about, but you saw fit not to discuss. We can talk after my meeting, one I would have had this morning were it not for your stunts." Liam turned on his heels, and knocked on the door that Killian had just left. "Captain Liam Jones."

Admiral Woodhull bade him entrance, and Liam was gone. Killian wanted to scream. How had this all spiraled out of control? He raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace. 

He wanted to find Emma, seek out the comfort of her arms. She'd always succeeded where he failed to calm himself. But he'd no idea where she'd gone since their lunch, and he couldn't rightly leave Liam here. Liam was bound to be livid once he left the meeting. Since Killian was the cause of his brother's misfortune, he knew he ought to stay to deal with the aftermath. Then there was the matter of finding the king, of convincing him to change his mind. Killian was already prepared for that conversation to go as well as his had with Liam.

Wonderful. 

Killian felt the beginnings of a headache. The day was starting to weigh heavily on him. He'd slept little the night before, and had been on the emotional brink ever since. He looked forward to falling into bed that night, preferably Emma curled by his side. Even though her parents acted as if they now supported their marriage, Killian was still wary of just what their support might mean. They had imprisoned him only that morning, after all. 

Maybe it would be a better plan to approach the king with Emma. While Killian was a proponent of fighting his own battles, he also recognized that she had sway over her parents. It was she who convinced her mother to be on their side. He reasoned that together they might be able to convince her father that this promotion business was premature. 

But before any of that could happen, he had to first face Liam. Killian strained to hear the conversation between his brother and the Admiral, but the walls were thick and he knew better than to press his ear against the door. Not that it mattered much. He knew what the conversation was about. 

So, he waited, and continued to wait, and then he waited even more. And finally, the meeting ended, and Liam walked briskly from the meeting. Though his brother was carrying himself with an air of respectability, Killian could see the tension in Liam's shoulders and noted how his hands with clenched in a tight fist. Liam had always advocated for "good form", and arguing with the Admiral about things he couldn't control certainly would be the opposite. Oftentimes, Killian admired and envied his brother's restraint. 

The Admiral followed after Liam, intent on leaving to see to other matters. He looked uncomfortable glancing between both Killian and Liam, but said nothing about the issue, only bidding farewell before walking briskly down the corridor. 

 _Coward_ , Killian thought bitterly. He'd always admired the Admiral, but the day had quickly shifted his opinion of the man. He wondered if Liam thought the same, or worse, thought the same about him.

"I expect that you're quite happy with yourself now," Liam said suddenly, breaking the silence in the corridor. "Captain of the _Jewel_. I'm impressed. Who knew a promotion could be found so easily between the princess' thighs?"

Whatever apology Killian had prepared died in his throat once he registered Liam's words, anger replacing guilt. "Don't talk about her like that.”

Liam crossed his arms over his chest, raising his eyebrow in a challenge. “I think I can talk about her however I wish. We’re family now, aren’t we?”

“Liam, I understand you are angry, but leave Emma out of this.” Killian kept his voice low, despite feeling like he should scream. He didn’t want to draw any attention to him or his brother. “Let’s go inside and talk.”

Killian was proud of himself for maintaining a cool head. Were Liam not the one currently challenging him, Killian thought that his older brother might be proud. After all, wasn’t Liam the one who often scolded him for losing his head in different situations? Thankfully, Liam acquiesced to his request, and the brothers reentered the room in which they had separately met with the Admiral.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Killian said immediately. He was still angry with Liam for his implication about Emma, but he knew it would be best to stay calm. That’s what Liam would do in a normal situation. Too bad this situation wasn’t normal.

“After everything I did for you, how could you do this to me? Your own brother!” Liam responded. He pointed to his chest. “When mother died, who was it that protected you? When father left, who made sure you stayed alive? When we were slaves, who bought your freedom? Is this how you repay me?

“I didn’t know you expected payment,” Killian replied coolly, feeling hurt by his brother’s accusation. Was this what Liam truly thought of their time together?

“The only payment I expected was for you to succeed, not to fuck your way to both of our damnations!” Liam began to pace the room.

“Emma means more to me than just a simple roll in the hay and you know this.” It kept coming back to her, Killian’s decision to choose her. “Are you jealous that I turned to someone not you?”

“Are you out of your mind?” Liam asked, incredulous. “I’m angry because you are throwing both our lives away for blonde hair and a nice pair of tits.”

_Crack!_

So much for keeping his cool. The words were barely out of Liam’s mouth before Killian had swung his fist, connecting with his brother’s nose. Liam’s head was thrown back, and his hands automatically went to his face. Blood was pouring out of his nose. Killian wondered if he had broken it.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, rushing to his brother’s aid. Liam only pushed him away, deservedly so.

“I see how it is,” Liam said, stepping away from him. “It’s either her or me, little brother. It can’t be both.”

Killian looked at his brother dumfounded, unsure why their conversation had taken this turn.

“Why?” he asked, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. It didn’t have to be this way. It didn’t! He couldn’t understand why Liam was giving him an ultimatum. It wasn’t fair, nor was it right. He didn’t want to choose between Emma and Liam. Why should he have to? Why did Liam want this? Emma wasn’t asking this of him.

“Because she’s ruining both of our lives, Killian. I can’t stand here with you knowing that,” Liam implored. “We can leave. Her father wants you to. The Admiral certainly doesn’t like you. No one wants you to stay here. Walk away. It will be better for everyone.”

“Better for you, you mean.”

“No, Killian. Everyone.”

Liam was likely right that no one wanted him here. Emma may have her father’s support, but Killian had no doubt if he left that King David would be far happier. Admiral Woodhull had made his feelings clear, implying he’d rather see Killian dead than sitting before him. And Liam was correct that his own life plan had been altered. Killian could not deny any of those things.

But…his leaving would not be better for Emma. If Killian left now, he would be no better than his father, abandoning the people he claimed to love to save his own skin. And Killian could not, he refused, to do that to Emma. It would destroy her. It would destroy him. He loved her too much to hurt her in such a way. That’s why he married her. That’s why all of this was worth it.

“Emma’s my wife, Liam,” he said, his voice breaking. He felt tears well up in his eyes. He would not cry. He wouldn’t. “I can’t do that to her.”

“Then I suppose this is goodbye,” Liam said.

Killian shook his head fervently. This could not be happening. He wouldn’t allow it. “Liam, listen to me, things will work out. I’ll speak to her father. Both she and I will, and you’ll get the Jewel back and it will all be okay. You’ll see.

“I can’t continue to watch you destroy yourself like this. Can you see that?”

“Liam—“

“I wish you well, brother.”

And with that, Liam turned away, leaving Killian alone in the room. Killian tried to will himself to follow, but it was as if his legs could not work. Instead, they collapsed out from under him, and Killian Jones began to sob.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! I have a number of people in a #feud with me over the last chapter. Though I won't give any spoilers, I will let you know that this one has more comic relief. I think we could all use an emotional break, am I right? This story wouldn’t be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @WEXYUK. Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @PIRATESRUMFORSWAN , and @JUST-BE-MAGNIFICENT .

Every now and then, Prince Leo would grow bored. He was very privileged, this he acknowledged, but life as royalty wasn't always full of frivolity. There were Council meetings that dragged on for hours and hours, clothing fittings, and when the weather was poor, he was more often than not trapped in the castle. Every now and then he could travel, but weeks at sea were even more boring. He couldn't go anywhere when he was trapped on a ship. Besides, he tended to get seasick, and nothing was less fun than hauling the contents of his stomach out over the side of whatever vessel they were traveling on. 

But he had learned long ago that fortunes can change rather quickly, and my how they'd changed!

He realized that it was rather unfair to find enjoyment at his sister's expense, but Leo hadn't had this much fun in quite a long time. Sure, everyone was in a state of panic with yelling and crying and threats of imprisonment, but as someone on the outside looking in, the whole affair was quite entertaining. He would have thanked Emma if he didn't believe she would smack him upside the head for saying such a thing. 

He did feel sorry for his older sister. He wasn’t that terrible. She and her new husband were very much in a state of distress, but since Leo had faith that it would all be alright in the end, he couldn't find it in his heart to be too upset. She loved the lieutenant, and though Leo didn't know much about Killian Jones, he apparently loved her as well. From what little he'd seen of them interacting, they seemingly fit well together. Besides, Leo had interrupted their wedding night and Killian didn't threaten to hurt him! That was mark in the lieutenant's favor.

Of course, there also was the matter of them bringing the entire situation down upon themselves. They were the ones who had been lying to everyone, and not just little lies, but large, life-changing lies. His sister had carried out an affair with someone far below her station, and then snuck away in the dark of the night to marry him. It was the stuff of scandals!

It was because of the impending scandals that would come that Leo couldn’t find himself to be as amused as he could with the way things were. Sure enough, someone will find out the dirty details behind his sister's marriage, and word would spread. Gods forbid she was already with child, as that would certainly make the situation messier.

Leo hoped for Emma's sake that Killian Jones would be able to handle the pressures that would arise from not only assuming royal duties, but from the outside. He wondered how much Emma had shared with him about this princess from whichever far away land or the various dukes that made both brother and sister roll their eyes in frustration. He had faith, though, that his sister wouldn't just run off with any poor bastard. (Was Killian Jones a bastard? He wasn't sure.) She was picky enough with suitors, so for her to pick this man meant he was someone special.

He hoped.

At the very least, the whole affair kept all eyes off him. As the "spare", it was expected he be more prone to scandals, but he didn't enjoy getting into any. His one close brush with scandal had been enough for him. Thankfully, and somewhat surprisingly, he'd had his parents' love and sister's support. Were anyone to say anything to him, they'd face the wrath of the Charming family. And Leo had seen Emma angry. It wasn't a pretty sight.

It was because of that, Leo felt like everything would be fine in the long run. Mother and Father were acting out of hurt, not malice. Once their wounds healed, they would come around and see that Emma's handsome husband was not a devious villain or rapscallion. He was the man Emma loved, simple as that. 

There was a very selfish of part of him that was glad Emma married, and not just because she was happy. A marriage - no matter how dubious this one was - meant stability for the crown. It also meant that an heir was far more likely. With an heir, he'd be further down the line, decreasing the likelihood of him assuming the throne. And it was very likely that Emma would have more than one child, driving him further and further away from the throne. So, yes, this was a very good thing for Leo.

He was a terrible brother, wasn't he?

Of course, his desire not to be king wasn't his only reason for supporting Emma's marriage. Emma was his sister. He loved his sister and wanted her to be happy. Killian Jones made her happy, or at least she said he did. He hadn't had enough time around the man to draw a full opinion, but Leo trusted Emma. If Killian made her happy, then she was to be believed. Now if only he could convince everyone else of that. 

That was what dinner was for, he supposed.

He was looking forward to the whole event. Everyone would be together, and there was sure to be yelling, but it would be something different. At the very least, there would be good food. Remy was an expert chef on his normal days, but he always went over the top on special occasions or when he sensed trouble. He'd once explained to Leo that just because the company wasn't pleasant, the food didn't have to be unpleasant. 

As Leo made his way toward the dining area, he pondered just what foods would be awaiting him. Pheasant? Veal? Remy was also excellent with vegetables. Maybe something with eggplant or squash? Considering the gossip of the evening, Remy would likely make something with cinnamon for dessert. He had always taken a liking to Emma, and Emma had taken a liking to anything with cinnamon. Surely their chef would ensure that Emma was served her favorite dessert. 

When Leo reached the dining area, only Emma and her new husband were there. He was still dressed in his clothing from the morning, a contrast to Emma, who had changed into a fine, red dress. Killian Jones looked even more out of place amid the opulence of the castle. 

The couple did not notice him when he entered. As with the morning, Leo felt as if he was interrupting a moment he shouldn't. Thankfully, this occasion was not amorous. While still awkward, this instance wasn't like this morning. For one, they were clothed. Emma and Killian were still sitting close together, speaking in low tones. The lieutenant looked quite distraught, and Emma rubbed his arm out of comfort. 

Leo debated how best to announce his presence, settling on a loud, "Hello there."

Really, this is another reason why he shouldn't ever be king. Leave proper greetings to Emma.

Both Emma and her husband pulled away from one another, startled by the interruption. Killian rubbed his face with his hand, and Emma shot Leo a deadly glare. He'd been on the receiving end of many of those glares over the years, but this one looked especially potent. On the bright side, if she killed him, he would never be king. 

Leo was an optimist, after all. 

"So," Leo began, wracking his mind for ways to break the tension, "I see you're out of the dungeons."

No one ever said he was good at diplomacy. 

"You knew about that, did you?" Emma asked, curling her hand around her husband's. 

Leo raised his hands in supplication. "For what it's worth, I told Father it was a bad idea and that you'd be upset."

"I am." 

"See! I was right!" He was trying to be funny, maybe get a chuckle from Emma and her husband. It didn't work. Leo sighed. Maybe he if he went for a more empathetic approach. "How is your brother? Luke, was it?"

"Liam. It's Liam," Killian corrected, his expression darkening. Leo flinched, realizing he likely made another misstep. "And Liam is...he's Liam." 

He didn't know what that meant, but Leo was smart enough not to press. Realizing he should probably give up, he took his place at the table. No one spoke. Leo realized that this dinner might ebb further on the side of awkward than entertaining. Emma looked half out for blood, and Killian appeared to be wishing a portal to the Underworld would open and swallow him whole. Unfortunately, as far as Leo knew, there weren't any portals to the Underworld in the castle.

He'd checked. 

The silence continued. Emma sat with her husband, their fingers entwined, sharing significant looks Leo didn't quite understand. He wondered what it was like to be in love. He'd never fallen in love before. He’d had crushes before, and shared a few fleeting kisses, but he hadn’t felt love. He was still young, not quite a man, so there was time yet. But would he ever love someone enough to do what Emma did? Would someone love him enough to act as Killian had? To be with Leo was already going to be a challenge, but would this potential someone have the wherewithal to do what his sister and her husband did? Would Leo even want him to?

Of course, the couple now looked abjectly miserable. That couldn't be fun. And considering how unfun the waiting for dinner already was, he didn’t want to imagine how they were feeling.

Leo couldn't be happier when his parents finally swept into the room. At least they would be talking, and he would be less likely to stick his foot in his mouth. Leo noticed, however, a shift in his sister and her husband. They both sat up a little straighter and tightened their hold on one another. It was crazy to think that despite being married, their parents held all the cards. Had the couple really not thought this whole thing through? Then again, he'd always heard that love made you do crazy things. Maybe this was one of them. 

"I take it your meeting with Admiral Woodhull went well?" Father asked, not even bothering with a preamble or greeting as he and Mother took their seats at the table. 

Emma and Killian exchanged glances that said things most certainly did not go well, but he said, "Aye, Your Majesty."

He sounded terribly resigned. Poor Killian, Leo thought. Maybe Remy would also serve his favorite meals. That would make the dinner somewhat more bearable. Servants were already beginning to bring out food. A bowl of soup was placed in front Leo -- pumpkin. He wasn't fond of pumpkin soup. This dinner was already getting off on a bad foot.

"Was it really necessary for Killian to replace Liam on the _Jewel?_ " Emma asked sharply. "Especially since he won't be allowed to sail it?"

Ah, so that's what they had been upset about when he walked in. Father looked confused. 

"Emma, I thought you'd want your husband to be granted the flagship of our Navy," Father replied.

“Yes, but—“

“Our word is final, Emma.” He busied himself with his soup. Emma looked livid.

Mother cut in. "Emma, darling, with the upcoming wedding—"

"Upcoming wedding? We already had a wedding!"

Oh. This was new information. Emma and her husband looks absolutely flabbergasted, while Mother and Father sat coolly across the table. 

"Emma, you're a princess. You deserve to have a royal wedding."

"I deserve to have the wedding I want."

Voices were already beginning to rise. Leo focused on his soup, then looked over the Killian, who was staring daggers into his bowl. He wondered if the equally silent Killian Jones also wasn’t a fan of pumpkin soup. 

"Emma, for your marriage," Father visibly winced, "to be legitimized, you need to have a proper ceremony."

"With all due respect, Your Highness, the friar who married us routinely performs legal marriage ceremonies," Killian Jones interjected. So, he was finally able to find his voice. 

"Besides, your first wedding was performed by a disgraced knight." 

"And once the battle was won, we had a proper ceremony," Mother reminded them. 

Both Emma and Killian appeared flummoxed by that argument. In chess, this would be checkmate. Though, at this point, Leo wouldn't put it past Emma to attempt to go out in a blaze of glory out of spite. She looked quite enraged by the whole thing. 

They sat quietly for awhile. Leo accidentally clattered his spoon against the edge of the bowl, but no one noticed, too caught up in their tempers. It was Killian who, in the end, broke the silence.

"Love, this might not be the worst suggestion," Killian whispered to her. He nudged her with his shoulder. Father looked displeased by this. "We'll still be married, aye?"

“Yes,” Father sighed, “you will still be married.”  
  
Father didn’t sound too happy, and Emma looked equally displeased. Regardless, Leo really hoped his sister listened. It sounded like a good plan. Maybe one too good to be true, but if their endpoint was marriage, having a second wedding didn’t sound like the worst option in the world. They would, after all, still be married. They could even have a glorious wedding. And while Leo was positive that the wedding would be miserably boring – he’d attended plenty of royal weddings, and they all were dreadfully boring – it would still be nice to actually see his sister wed.

“Emma, consider this our compromise,” Mother implored.

Leo watched as Emma and Killian exchanged glances. Killian gave his sister an encouraging smile. He clearly thought they should go along with the plan. He was smart. But was Emma?

“Fine, we’ll do it.”

-/-

Emma was angry, frustrated, annoyed, and all the similar descriptors in between. The tiny, more rational voice in her head told her that she should really be grateful, but she was feeling reactive at the moment, rationality be damned.

  
The dinner didn’t go exactly how she’d expected, not that she expected much. When it started, she already wasn’t in the best of moods, concerned with Killian’s own misery at his situation with his brother to really think through just how dinner might go. She knew their earlier conversation with her parents was too good to be true, but she’d been so hopeful that they’d actually accepted her and Killian’s marriage to realize that of course there would be strings. 

The rest of the dinner had continued with her parents outlining just how her and Killian’s engagement would go. They’d announce their engagement at a ball in a month, giving the impression that the whole affair wasn’t as hastily thrown together as it actually was. A wedding would occur two months after that. It was still a very constrained timeline. Rumors would surely circulate through the surrounding kingdoms, but it was far less scandalous than announcing that Emma had simply eloped.  
  
Instead of that, to the outside world their story would be that the Princess fell in love with her dashing Captain of the Fleet, and they simply couldn’t wait to be wed. Yes, rumors of their elopement would spread, but they would have less merit if Emma was pretending to be engaged. Everyone would still assume she was with child, because people were busybodies who enjoyed these kinds of scandals, but there was only so much they could prevent.

“We’re getting what we wanted, love,” Killian reminded her. He didn’t look too happy himself either, the cost of getting just exactly what they wanted weighing heavily on him, as well. “It might be more steps than either you or I desired, but in the end, we’ll still be together. 

“Yes, but the entire reason we eloped was to ensure we could be together now. No more secrets, no more hiding,” she explained. She was throwing a fit. She knew this. But it all felt so unfair. She was allowed to be upset. “It just feels as if we’re back to where we started.”

“We’re still married, we’re just going to be married again.” He approached her, and cupped her cheeks in his hands. She loved when he held her like this, when he thumbed her cheek delicately, almost as if he was in awe of holding something so precious. “I hope you know I’ll overcome any obstacle for you.”

His expression turned somewhat sad, his blue eyes taking a glassy quality. Killian was in no doubt thinking about his brother. That was also something that set Emma’s blood aflame. Liam had the gall to call them selfish, despite being only concerned for himself. How was that any more fair or brotherly?

She thought back to when she’d gone after him earlier that afternoon. She’d known he was meeting with Admiral Woodhull concerning something or another with the Navy, but she didn’t know what. Hours had passed and she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard word of how the meeting had gone. She’d been terrified that something terrible had happened to him. Had he been sent to the dungeons again? But one of her servants had said that she’d seen the Admiral leaving the castle, and pointed her in the direction of where the meeting had taken place.

She’d raced to that room, her heart pounding viciously in her chest. When she found him, she’d gasped. He was still there on his knees, barely holding himself together. His eyes were rimmed red, and Emma realized that that had been the first time she’d ever seen him cry. She had been able to slowly coax from him what had happened, that Liam had given him an ultimatum between himself and her, and that Killian had chosen her. Though her heart had briefly soared to know that Killian would choose her always, it also broke because her own love’s heart was shattered beyond belief.

In the end, she had been right. Something terrible had happened to Killian, just not in the way she had expected.

It hurt that their families weren’t entirely supportive of her and Killian. The only person who acted happy from the start was Leo. Emma couldn’t imagine how hopeless she would have felt if she didn’t have him by her side. Her parents came around soon enough, but Emma was smart enough to know it was reluctant. Her father was still uncomfortable, almost looking for excuses not to trust to Killian. And Liam…he had made it apparent how little he supported either of them.

“I hope you know how insane royal weddings can be,” she told him, hoping to add a little levity to the situation. As angry as she was currently, she could tell Killian was looking for some reason to smile. “Hours and hours of planning, stuffy clothing, meetings with dignitaries. We’re going to have to shake so many hands.”

“Ah, but I’m marrying you. It will all be worth it.” He flashed her a toothy grin, even if his smile didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“I thought you said you were already married to me.”

“The way I look at it, last night was just for us, you and me and no one else…and it was perfect.  Everything I could ever want…but I can’t begrudge your parents wanting to host a wedding for you,” Killian explained. “This is just a delay to the beginning of the rest of our lives together. We’ll still get there.”

His words comforted her somewhat. It amazed Emma that despite feeling emotional turmoil himself, he still had the ability to be a calming force to her. It was one of the many reasons that she loved him.

“Yeah, well, I’m impatient and I want to get there.”

“I’ve heard good things come to those who wait.”

“You sound like Jiminy Cricket,” she teased.

“I look forward to finally meeting him.”

Emma realized that soon he actually would be meeting her family’s friend. Killian would soon be meeting everyone her family was close to. It was no longer an abstract concept. It was real, or becoming more real.   
  
There was one positive to pretending to be engaged. Depending on who knew the actual story, Killian might actually be received more warmly. Jiminy would be kind to be him regardless. He was that kind of bug. But the others, well…if he was just a man she loved and not one who “convinced her to run away” – because of course, he would be blamed – then maybe people might be kinder. Grumpy and the rest of her “uncles” would be lost causes. Emma was sure they already knew what had happened, and even if they didn’t, they would never have liked Killian. Much like her father, in their eyes, no man was good enough for her. But for others, it might be for the best. At the very least, though Emma was willing to deal with all the snide comments. She dreaded future meetings with Princess Alexandra.

“You’re going to be meeting plenty of people soon enough,” she said to Killian, her thoughts drifting from Alexandra to the rest of the princes, princesses, and nobles who would be attending their engagement ball.

“Well, look at it this way: they’ll at least be introduced to Captain Killian Jones, and not Killian Jones, the dashing rapscallion who absconded away with the princess,” Killian joked, almost as if he was reading her. His voice caught on the word “captain”, belying the humor his intended, and Emma’s heart broke for him.

“Hey, how are you doing with all of that?” she asked him. She threaded her fingers through his hair, stroking the nape of his neck the way she knew he enjoyed in an effort to comfort him. 

“I’m…I’m managing. There’s not much I can do otherwise,” he replied, his voice bitter. “It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed, but at the same time, it’s not.”

“Now you know how I feel.” 

“Except you still have your family,” he said. He pulled away from her, clearly annoyed by both her statement and his situation with Liam. “Your parents may be attaching strings to our relationship, but at least they’re not stopping us from completely having one. You have your brother, and I—“ 

He broke off, and Emma was sure he was about to cry. She had instantly regretted her offhand comment the moment she’d said it, especially knowing how sensitive Killian was to the topic of family. He loved Liam more than anything, and Liam once had been all he’d had left.

Until now. Until her.

“Liam will come around,” Emma said. She wasn’t sure how, but for Killian’s sake, she had to believe it. Her mother often boasted about the power of hope. It was time to see how right she really was. “My parents did for the most part. Liam will do the same.”

“Emma, Liam isn’t like either of your parents. He’s different! He’s Liam,” Killian exclaimed as if that explained everything. And maybe, to Killian, it did.

 “He’s still your brother.” 

“And I’m his, and as far as he’s concerned, I usurped his position and stole his ship. I’m ruining not only my own life, but also his.”

“You make yourself sound like a pirate stealing what doesn’t belong to him,” Emma pointed out, to which Killian glared. She raised her hands in defense. “All I’m saying is that I am sure that Liam will come around. It might not be today or tomorrow, but he will, you’ll see.” 

Killian didn’t quite look like he believed her, but he nodded anyway. He raked his hands through his hair, and let out a frustrated sigh. “I wish it was now, and not someday.”

“A wise man once told me that good things come to those who wait.” 

“Whoever said that should know it’s a load of bollocks,” Killian replied with a half-laugh. He still looked sad, but there was a twinkle in his eyes as they verbally sparred.

“I don’t know. I think he’s pretty great,” Emma replied. She approached him tentatively, and sighed in relief when he once again allowed her into his space. “It’s going to be okay, Killian. I promise.”

“Will it?”

“Love always wins out in the end. You’ll see.” 

It had to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a new chapter! Fair warning, this chapter has a fair amount of sexual content in it. As always, his story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk. Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, piratesrumforswan, and just-be-magnificent!

_My dearest, Emma,_

_Can you believe seven days have passed since we wed? They’ve been both the fastest and slowest days of my life. Is it any wonder? I am forced to pretend that you are not mine, nor am I yours. It’s nothing new for us, of course, but now it is the sweetest of tortures. To think that the moment you were named my wife I believed that this was all past us! Maybe Liam was right that I am naïve._

_In three weeks’ time, we’ll be announcing our engagement, and two months after that, you will be my wife for the second time. Does that make our love stronger, I wonder? Twice married to one another!_

_No matter. It will all be worth it in the end. That’s what I tell myself, at least. But what is one month or three in the end? I would go to the end of the world or time for you. Marrying you twice over is nothing more than an extra treat._

_I count down the days until you can once again be my wife._

_Yours always,_

_Killian_

Emma read over the letter again, her fingers tracing the edges of the parchment. She sat cross-legged in her bed, various letters spread out before her, all written by the man who held her heart – her husband. Only not. It was well past midnight, her bedchambers illuminated only by the candles she had scattered around and the moonlight wafting through the paned window. She ought to be in bed asleep. If her parents or anyone knew she was still awake, she likely would be reprimanded. The ball announcing her engagement was tomorrow, and she was expected to be alert and present. This was, after all, what she had wanted.

Except not.

What she wanted was to be with her husband, not to pretend to be courting and then engaged for propriety’s sake. She was going along with her parents’ proposal because she had to. Desire had no part in it. It was duty, nothing more. Emma hated that she saw it that way. This was her marriage after all, but…

But it was nothing about what she wanted. This was all for her parents. To make them happy. To save face. To avoid scandal. There was a list of many reasons why things had to be this way, and on some level Emma understood. She just hated what made it so. She knew she should be grateful. All things considered, the situation could be worse and they came out relatively unscathed. She and Killian could still be together. In a few months’ time, their fake engagement would be a thing of the past.

But, it didn’t change that she was married now, and that the first month of marriage was nothing like she had envisioned. How had she envisioned it? She hardly knew anymore, except that it hadn’t been this – sitting alone on this bed, reading old letters and notes she and Killian had traded over the past few weeks.

At least the letter exchanges didn’t have to be covert this time. She could write to him as she pleased, and him to her. That was an advantage that they hadn’t been afforded before. Even so, when they were able to be around one another – an altogether too rare occurrence – either he or she would slip a note into the other one’s hands for old time’s sake.

 _You are a vision in your gown tonight, Emma. You should wear blue more often,_ one would say. Or another, _Every night I have dreams of you. I’m counting down the days until I can hold you again._ She’d had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing when he slipped her a note that read, _Your breasts look glorious_. Her cheeks had burned red for the rest of the night, so much so that her father had noticed and she had to make a comment about feeling overheated.

They hadn’t had much of an opportunity to be intimate, she and Killian. They were barely allowed to be alone together, not that they had been before. But now that people knew about their relationship, they were both watched like hawks. They’d been able to sneak around a few times – there had been one particularly inspired moment in the library where he’d taken her against a shelf – but those moments were few and far between. Even fewer since he’d been taken away by the Navy to visit the Enchanted Forests coastal ports for two weeks so he’d at the very least be recognized as someone when they announced their engagement tomorrow. 

Gods, how she missed him!

Of course, with him being gone, there was some cause for celebration among the Council. She’d had her courses the week previous, which had been painful for her, but wonderful for everyone else. It meant that there was one less cause for scandal, that the lieutenant-now-captain hadn’t placed a baby in her belly.

Unfortunately, it had also led to a few people not so subtly suggesting that since there was no baby, then there was no reason to carry on with the charade. Because, of course, the entire reason she wanted to marry (and stay married) to Killian was because she thought she was carrying his child. That made perfect sense! The comments had so infuriated her, she’d spent hours practicing her archery – a skill she was admittedly quite terrible at – just to cool her head.

Why could no one accept that she loved Killian for who he was? He didn’t trick her. He certainly didn’t impregnate her. He was simply a good man, entertaining, and smart, someone who understood her. Even his brother – his own brother! – had suspected ulterior motives, and he was the one person other than she who was supposed to love Killian. Despite the guilt gnawing at her for being the source of Liam and Killian’s estrangement, anger still boiled in her for his doubt. She loved him! She did!

And she missed him terribly.

“Not a day will go by that I won’t think of you,” he’d told her before he left, their hands entwined as they stood together in the castle.

She hadn’t been allowed to see him off at the docks. Despite their courtship being more formalized, her saying goodbye in front of the rest of Killian’s crew would have been inappropriate. It was what wives did or the common girls without titles, and to the world, she was neither. Princesses do not wait at the docks for their men.

Emma comforted herself with the knowledge that she would see him tomorrow, or rather, in a few hours. Killian was already back, she knew, but she’d hadn’t seen him yet. The knowledge that he was so nearby chafed at her, but she reminded herself that it was just a few more hours yet, and then they could be together. Most importantly, they’d be officially engaged.

She knew if she went to sleep, time would pass by much faster. But sleep evaded her, her body too keyed up with the knowledge of the upcoming ball and the return of her husband. Husband! He was her husband! Oh, how she wanted to shout it from the rooftops! Why had she agreed to her parents’ plan? How could she believe that this truly was the easiest way to get what both she and Killian wanted?

Huffing, Emma fell back onto the bed. Before she could even attempt to sleep again, she would have to move the rest of the letters out of the way and blow out the many candles, both of which seems too arduous at this moment. If only she could shoot arrows at this late hour, but no. That would be frowned upon – how she hated her gilded cage. Not that she would have been able to come and go at all hours of the night if she were not the princess.

Knowing that if she wanted to be somewhat presentable tomorrow – and since there was a ball, she must – Emma pushed herself upward and began to gather Killian’s letters. She wondered if they would continue after they were official wed. A small part of her hoped they would. It was something special between them.

Emma had just moved to put out the candles when she heard something that sounded suspiciously like a knock on the door. She must be tired if she was hallucinating knocks, but then she heard it again. She reasoned that it could have been one of the servants who had noticed a light under her door, and made her way to answer to assure whomever it may be that she was _fine_. She wasn’t a child, but a grown woman. But when she opened the door, it wasn’t one of her servants standing on the other side.

It was Killian.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow and extending his arms.

Emma gaped at him, dumbfounded by his presence at her door. After what surely was too long of a silence, she asked, "What are you doing here?" 

Truly, she had to be dreaming. She had to have fallen asleep over her letters, and dreamt that he was here. That was the only explanation. Killian couldn't actually –

– she couldn't complete the thought because the next thing she knew, he was swooping forward and hauling her into his arms for what could only be described as a bruising kiss. Had it been a month since she kissed him last? Surely it should be illegal to go so long without kissing one's husband.   


What was illegal, however, was sneaking into the princess's bedchambers. Breaking the kiss with a groan, she ushered him inside, making sure to peek out to see if anyone had seen him. The hallways remained dark, so Emma quickly shut the large wooden door behind her before pouncing upon Killian and peppering his cheeks with kisses.

"I.." Kiss. "wasn't supposed to.." Kiss. "see you.." Kiss. "Until tomorrow!" Kiss.  
  
He laughed, what a beautiful thing, and tightened his hold upon her. "Your brother, he told me how much you missed me, and considered it an early engagement gift to sneak me in." 

He kissed her deeply, warm and wet and everything she had been missing. She would have to thank Leo somehow. Truly, she would. Buy his favorite treats -- something, anything. 

"I can't believe you're here!" she gasped when he pulled away. 

She wouldn't have been able to greet him this way had she first seen him tomorrow. A soft kiss may have been permitted, but she couldn't be wrapped in his arms, kissing him just as she had desired to for so many weeks, full of unrelenting passion.

They broke apart, desperate for air. They didn’t stray too far from one another, their foreheads pressed together as they found their bearings. Emma clung desperately to the lapels of his coat. If she hadn’t used him for support, surely she would fall. She never believed that kissing could make one weak in the knees, but then she met Killian. Kissing him was wonderful. So much so that she had to do it again.   
  
Their kisses were sloppy, and they were both smiling so much that their teeth clacked together causing more giggles. They continued to kiss regardless, moving backwards until they fell back onto the bed, both giggling. Emma felt so incredibly happy. Just a few moments ago, she was sitting around feeling sorry for herself, but now she could barely contain her grin. 

"You're beautiful," Killian told her, cupping her cheek. He looked a little awestruck himself.   
  
"You're not so bad yourself," she replied.  
  
He winked at her, quite poorly actually, causing Emma to laugh loudly. She clapped her hands over her mouth, worried that someone had heard her. They lay in silence together wearing twin grins and waiting for someone to come and reprimand them, but no one did.   
  
Lying in bed together, it felt like nothing could go wrong. They made quite the team, she and him. Whenever Killian was in her proximity, Emma felt more certain all would work out in their favor. While he was away, fear nagged at her, and though she vowed to not let it control her, she couldn't help but worry. What if something went wrong? What if his two-week tour was all a ploy? She didn't believe her parents would set up something nefarious, but what about the Admiral or any of her parents’ advisors? She'd heard of advisors attempting to undermine the kingdom for what they perceived as its own good. Why, in Agrabah…  
  
But no, this was not Agrabah or many of the other kingdoms. This was Misthaven. Her husband had not mysteriously gone overboard. He was here with her.  
  
"I'm so happy you are here," she said. She reached out for his hand and twined their fingers together. His hand was so much larger than hers, but it still felt as if he was made for her. Emma wasn't sure how much stock she put in fate, but whatever brought Killian to her made her happy. "I missed you."  
  
"And I you." He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "I kept my promise, you know. I thought of you each and every day."  
  
"What about me?"  
  
“Your smile, for one. It's radiant. Your hair, also. It's brighter than the sun."  
 __  
Charmer, was what she thought, but she leaned in closer to him, encouraging, "Go on. tell me more, Captain."  
  
His new title still sounded foreign on her lips. She's spent so much time over their courting calling him "Lieutenant". But he was a Captain now, not a Lieutenant, and Emma thought she should refer to him as such, no matter how dubious the promotion. He deserved it anyway.   
  
"Honestly, every now and then, I would just narrate my day, pretending you were there. It was my way of letting you know how I was getting on."  
  
"And were you?" she asked.  
  
"Was I what?"  
  
"Getting on."  
  
"As well as a man could be when separated from his love," he replied, completely earnest. She flushed under his sweet gaze. "I used to feel at home sailing the seas, but this time around I spent my entire time wishing I was with you."  
  
“I feel the same,” she replied. He looked so handsome lying next to her, his eyes sparkling and full of love. She could look into his eyes for days. They were the color of the sea, fitting for her sailor.   
  
“How long can you stay?”  
  
“Tonight or…?“  
  
“Tonight.”  
  
His expression softened. “I should leave before morning.”  
  
Emma felt her own grin widen. “So that means you have a few hours yet.”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“Then tell me, Captain, what should we do with our time?”  
  
He made a show of pretending to think, tapping his chin in an exaggerated manner.  “We do have a busy day tomorrow. Sleep would be advisable.

“Seriously?”  
  
He couldn’t actually be serious with his suggestion to sleep? His laugh that followed his exclamation told her that no, he wasn’t being serious. He was joking, and Emma flushed at falling for something so obvious. In her defense, however, not only was she operating on little sleep, she was distracted by the fact that he was finally here, cuddled together with her in bed. 

“If sleep is off the table, then how would you like to while away the hours, my love?” His expression told her that he already knew the answer to his question, his eyebrow quirked salaciously.   
  
“I could think of a few things.”

Before he could respond, she pulled him in for a kiss. She was unwilling to wait any longer, and Emma believed she had been patient for far too long. Killian was her husband, and she was going to enjoy the privileges that marriage entailed. And when he rolled her under him, she knew he felt the same.

-/-

It was dawn when Killian awoke, much later than he intended. The sun was already beginning to rise, illuminating Emma's bedchamber in the soft, hazy gray of early morning. Instead of moving to fetch his clothes, however, he buried further under the quilts and closer to the woman sleeping beside him.   
  
He didn't want to leave. He preferred to stay here in the soft cocoon of Emma's bed, hidden away from the world and its expectations. Just he and she, a man and woman desperately in love. But she was a princess, and he was, well, him. No longer a Lieutenant, but Captain of the fleet, and still a station far beyond anything she was expected to want. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Emma a little tighter, needing her to anchor him.  
  
The past two weeks hadn't been easy. This separation had been worse than any of their others. It wasn’t a long one by any means, but it was all performative. Sail the coast, make nice with the locals, be seen. Don't fuck up. He was terrified that he would do something wrong to have Emma's parents reconsider their compromise. They were so close to getting they wanted. 

And yet.

He hadn't spoken to Liam since their meeting with the Admiral. Killian missed his brother dearly. How could he not? But Liam was stubborn, as was he, and Killian wasn't quite willing to apologize. Apologizing would mean implying that there was something wrong with his relationship with Emma. Killian would concede that the secret hadn't been right, but not Emma. Had he and Emma maintained their relationship publicly as they were doing now, the outcome would have likely been the same. 

Not that he wanted the titles, or Liam's ship. He's even tried to turn them down, especially since he hadn't earned them. That was bad form. But no level of arguing would sway either the king or Admiral. Maybe once he and Emma were married (again), he could try again. He’d have more power then, and not just be a pawn desperately trying to hold onto the one good thing he has left.

He tightened his hold on Emma, curling his body that much closer to her, inhaling the scent of her hair. It smelled of roses. She once told him that she preferred the soaps made from rose petals, and he swore that once married she would have all the rose soap she desired. He vowed he would follow through on that promise, as well as every promise he made before. 

Killian never had an example of what a marriage should be. His parents were married, but he had little memory of their relationship. Mother died when he was young, and his father bailed on both he and Liam. Living as a slave gave him little exposure to men and their wives. Emma had her parents to look to, but he…he had nothing.

It was terrifying. 

He was terrified of failing her as a husband. He already felt like he was. They’d been married for a month, and he was already leaving her alone. It wasn’t completely his fault, but this was nothing like how he envisioned their first month of marriage as being, complete shrouded in secrecy yet again. It would be worth it, he reminded himself. At least with this go around, they would have the support of her parents. Knowing how much Emma admired her parents – well, maybe not at this exact moment – helped calm his nerves. But what then? What came next after the announcement of their engagement and later their second wedding? Could he be a man of honor then? Could he live up to everything she hoped he would be?

“You’re thinking too loudly,” came a muffled voice next to him. 

Emma rolled in her arms so that she was facing him. She blinked blearily in dawn’s early light, fighting off the tendrils of sleep that still clung to her. He felt guilty for waking her. She needed her rest. Today would be quite busy with the ball and all that preceded it.  

“Go back to sleep, darling,” he whispered. He threaded his fingers through her hair. It had fallen out of its braid sometime during the previous night’s lovemaking. “It’s early yet.”  
  
She shook her head and wrapped her arm around his waist, tightening her hold on him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
“I know I said we should be patient, but now I just want this to be over,” he said. She didn’t need to hear him bare his soul, and Killian knew if he did, he would never leave. Besides, it was truth enough. “I want for us to be married.”  
  
“Well it’s a good thing we are then, huh?” she giggled. She sobered quickly however, and placed her hand on his chin, turning his face so that she could look him in the eye. “I feel the same way, you know. But it will all be over soon.”  
  
“Aye.”  
  
He moved to kiss her then, intending for the meeting of their lips to be quick and chaste. His wife had other plans, and she deepened the kiss with a soft moan, pressing herself closer against him. He marveled at the way their bodies fit together – Emma all soft curves, and his hard planes. His body stirred in interest, reveling at the friction of her skin on his. Killian knew he ought to pull away. He needed to redress, to leave, to not be caught. But he’d been away from her for so long, and despite having her the night previous, he still wanted more.  Besides, she clearly wanted him, and he could deny her nothing.  
  
They traded warm, wet kisses for what seemed like ages, their tongues dueling as their traced the outline of their bodies. Killian had been married to Emma for one month, but he was still discovering the treasures her body held, the best ways in which he could wring gasps and pleasant moans. He looked forward to the day when these moments weren’t stolen, when he could love her late into the night and early until the day without fear of interruption or punishment.  
  
He rolled their bodies so that his could cover hers, delighting in her gasp of surprise as he moved over her. They were still bare from the night before. Neither had bothered to redress, reveling instead in the intimacy of press of their skin against one another as they fell into sleep. He hadn’t been intending to make love to her this morning, but she was a siren and he her willing sailor. He would gladly sail toward oblivion if it was found in her arms.  
  
He worshipped her with his lips, dropping open-mouthed kissed down the slope of her neck, the jut of her collarbone, and the swell of her breasts. She made the most delightful sounds, not too loud lest they be heard, but enough to drive him further. He longed for the day in which he could once again make her cry out as he did on their wedding night, not caring who might hear.  
 _  
Soon_ , he told himself, _soon_.  
  
Soon the secrecy would be over, and he could proudly announce that she was his wife, but until then he had to make do with what he had. And what he had was this.  
  
He continued his worship of her body, kissing lower and lower until he was there and Emma was gasping, “Please.” This was familiar. Even before the secret elopement, he had loved her in this way, wringing pleasure from her with his tongue and fingers. Here he knew the best ways to make her shatter, to writhe, to dig her fingers into his hair as he diligently worked her toward completion.  
  
But just finishing her was not enough, he wanted more. He wanted to feel her shatter around his cock, for them to find that peak together, so far too soon he moved up over her again. She seemed displeased by this, already so close, but her expression softened once she realized his intentions. They kissed sloppily, the taste of her on his tongue. If it bothered her, it did not show. Instead, she reached down between them to wrap her hand around his length, and stroke him once, twice, three times until he had to break away from her.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he told her, panting into her shoulder. How was it that she could drive him to the brink with such a simple touch?

“Well, some do call it ‘The Little Death’,” she replied, a teasing lilt in her voice as she bucked against him. 

Minx. 

They kissed again, the action doing nothing to cool his ardor. But that was not the intention. His desire to be inside her now overwhelming, he positioned himself in the cradle of her thighs before sliding into her in one deep stroke. He stilled himself, allowing her time to adjust, and when she nodded, he began to move. He kept his pace steady, reminiscent of the rock of his ship on the sea.

And when they came, they came together, he with his face buried in the crook of her neck, his moans muffled by her skin and hair. He rolled off her, settling to his left as they attempted to catch their breath and cool their skin. Their hands still stay tangled, the two of them unwilling to disengage their bodies completely, not after their separation and whatever else they knew would come.

“Why don’t we do that more often?” she gasped with a giggle, rolling to her side look over at him. Her green eyes sparkled in the pre-dawn gray, and Killian marveled at how someone could look so beautiful.

“After this is all over, we’ll lock ourselves in the tower and not come out for days,” he promised, another vow he wasn’t sure he could keep, but he so desperately wanted to. 

“One good thing about having an official wedding is that we’ll also be expected to have a honeymoon,” Emma mused next to him. “We could anywhere we desire.”

Killian quirked his brow. This was something he hadn’t considered. For many of the lower classes, actual honeymoons were out of reach. For those who could afford it, maybe a night or two away at an inn, but not an extended trip. But Emma was not a peasant, she was a princess. She could travel for days on end without worrying about the state of a business or a farm. Her parents still ruled, and her brother was present.   

One of his favorite aspects of sailing was that it provided him the opportunity to travel, to see different ports in faraway realms, places out of the reach for many. But as a slave or Naval officer, he never had a choice of where he went or how long he stayed. He was offered shore leave in the past, which he filled with trying local delicacies or maybe the company of a lovely lass, but after too short a time, he’d have to return to the ship to work.

He wondered where he and Emma could go. He’d heard tales of Agrabah, of the spices and sand and the women who wandered around in sheer clothing. Would Emma wear such scandalous clothes? The fashions of Misthaven were quite modest, but perhaps…

Or maybe they wouldn’t even have a set destination in mind. They could take a ship and just sail and sail, stopping at whatever port fit their whims, making love under the stars. Of course, that likely wouldn’t be an option. Killian was doubtful Emma would be allowed to travel without some sort of posse, guards and such. But a man could only hope, couldn’t he? 

“You’re smiling,” Emma commented. She traced the line of his lips with her index finger. He nipped at it, causing her to giggle. If he could make her laugh every day, then he could die a happy man.

“I’m just thinking of escaping away with you, love.”

She hummed. “I’m counting down the days.”

They kissed again. There wasn't any heat in this kiss. Their bodies still needed to recover, but most importantly, he had to go. With an apologetic smile, Killian disengaged himself from her arms, feeling suddenly bereft of her warmth.

He made a show of redressing, earning another peal of laughter from her lips. She looked beautiful laying in the bed, naked and with her golden hair a mess. As he pulled on his jacket, he couldn’t resist one last kiss.

“Rest some more. I will see you tonight,” he promised, his lips moving against hers.   
  
She curled into the blankets as he requested, and Killian longed for the opportunity to once again rejoin her. But that was not in the cards for today, or tomorrow, or the next few months.  
 _  
Soon,_ he thought as he snuck out of bedchambers. _Soon this will all be over, and I won’t have to leave. We can be together._

That day could not come soon enough.

 


	9. Chapter 9

David woke with a start. He’d had another fitful night of sleep, just as he’d experienced for the past month. He rarely slept well while stressed, and lately it felt as if he had the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. He recalled the years when he and Snow had fought against Regina, how little he slept, worried that she or one of her minions would come steal away all he held dear. Only this time when nightmares overtook him, it wasn’t Snow’s evil stepmother who haunted his dreams, but the young upstart sailor who’d captured his daughter’s heart.

David ran his hand over his face willing the memories of his dream to disappear.

They were finally celebrating Emma’s “engagement” tonight, formally announcing the relationship to their friends and allies. Everyone already knew it was an engagement party, of course, those things couldn’t be kept secret, nor did anyone expect it to be. But tonight everything would become more real, in a sense, with the stakes of dissolving the relationship becoming much higher than before. Not that he expected Emma to want to extricate herself from her sailor, nor would he and Snow fight them on it.

He still wasn't fond of the arrangement. He felt like a man whose life was slowly spiraling out of control. Regardless, David intended to stay true to his resolve to trust his daughter. He knew he couldn't be the father to put his foot down and demand that they part from one another. Neither he nor Snow were willing to ask her to abdicate the throne to once again marry Jones. As things stood, all David could do was stand and watch his world burn.

He turned to his side to face his wife. She slept soundly, her expression a portrait of peacefulness. He wished he could have her certainty that all would be well with his daughter's relationship. Snow remained optimistic, as she did with most things, but David wasn't so sure.

He couldn't get his final conversation with Liam Jones out of his head. Though the elder Jones clearly wanted to protect his brother, his recommendation was hardly glowing. He had been hesitant, cautious in choosing his words in a way that worried David. If the man closest to his daughter's suitor couldn't properly defend him, what was David supposed to think?

_ Trust Emma, _ he reminded himself.

But it wasn't Emma that he didn't trust. It was Jones. Emma honestly believed she loved him, and she was following her heart. David could understand that, and in a way, commended her for her certainty. But he didn't know Jones' heart, nor his motivations. And if his own brother doubted him, then David believed he was entitled to do so, as well.

Knowing he'd get no more sleep anytime soon, and unwilling to allow his tormenting thoughts to potentially rouse his wife, David pulled himself from the bed. He wanted a drink -- rum or ale to soothe his spirits -- but knowing the day he had ahead, David settled for a glass of warm milk. He could get to the kitchens, grab some milk, and distract himself with a book from the library before joining his wife in entertaining the guests that had arrived early -- including his daughter's husband.

Jones had been set to return from his tour the night before, and David had received word that he'd made it back safely. He was eager to receive a debriefing of the trip, to gain more insight into the mind of Killian Jones. Not just from Killian Jones, of course, but also the Admiral. The Admiral was hardly a fan of the arrangement, not that David could necessarily blame the man. But if his opinion of Jones had shifted in either direction, David wanted to know. It was in Emma's best interest, after all.

Emma hadn't enjoyed the past two weeks. She'd acted sullen for the duration of Jones' trip around the kingdom. She wasn't argumentative, at least not more so than other times, but there was a melancholy there that she normally didn't display. It reminded David of him and Snow at times during their own separations. Not that Emma and Jones were anything like he and his wife, as much as Emma claimed to be. He and Snow were True Loves. They'd been married for decades, and the only secrecy regarding their marriage had been hiding from the Evil Queen. Regardless, David's heart still broke for his daughter, and he was quite unhappy  seeing her experience any emotional pain.

Of course, heartbreak was what worried him. He was terrified Jones would somehow shatter his daughter's heart. Emma didn’t deserve that, never would, and long ago David swore that he would do his damndest to protect her. Snow had said that was a lost cause, because by the time Emma grew old enough to suffer a broken heart, she would be at the age to make decisions for herself. But David was her father, and if he could protect Emma, he would. Only he wasn’t sure how to do it without losing her.

_ “What If she’s wrong about him?” he’d asked Snow again late one night after a long afternoon of planning for the engagement ball. “What if he hurts her?” _

_ “Then we’ll stand by her side supporting her and loving her, like her parents should,” Snow reminded him. _

And that made him feel completely and utterly helpless. As David strode down the castle halls from his chambers, he wondered if it would be best to work out some of his frustrations with swordplay this morning, rather than read. The exertion might be good for him. Of course, that would also mean the poor knight who fought across from him would have to deal with a fight. David would insist on wooden swords then.

Pleased with his decision, David was eager to get down the kitchens and then to the training pit. It was still early, of course, but someone was always there. He wouldn’t be causing too much trouble, and hopefully it would allow him to relax. He needed to put on an air of approval for Emma’s sake. As much as he loathed the idea of her marriage, he refused to be the cause of any pain for her. He just had to grin and bear it, trusting that her instincts were correct.

It was as David turned the corner that his own instincts pricked moments before colliding with a man. He believed the man to be one of his guards, not expecting the king or anyone else to be awake at the late hour. Unfortunately, David was wrong, and even more unfortunately, he found himself to be standing opposite a very surprised Killian Jones.

David blinked a few times in an attempt to gather his bearings and to convince himself that he wasn’t hallucinating his daughter’s paramour hurrying down the darkened halls of the castle, coming from a direction that passed her bedchambers. But no, it was, in fact, Killian Jones standing before him, looking very much like a fox who had been caught in the hen house.

Killian Jones was not supposed to be here. Killian Jones was supposed to be in his own home, wherever he resided when not sailing with the Navy – a small place above a tavern that he once shared with his brother, David had found out a few weeks ago. He was not supposed to be clearly sneaking from the princess’ bedchambers.

And here he was.

“I, uh, I suppose there’s no way I can convince you to pretend you didn’t actually run into me, is there?” he had the gall to ask. Jones awkwardly scratched behind his ear as his spoke, and David could tell it was a nervous tick.

Good.

The man should be nervous.

David crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at sailor. “No.”

“And I also suppose that it would be bad form to remind you that Emma and I are, in fact, married,” he added, the tips of his ears turning pink. “I mean, in that regard, nothing untoward technically happened.”

David’s blood began to boil, and he had to remind himself that he couldn’t kill the man Emma loved, no matter how much he desired to do so. And then David remembered his original destinations. He didn’t have to kill the man Emma loved, but that didn’t also mean he couldn’t put him through the wringer. Milk could wait. It was time for swords.

“I think you should come with me.”

This was going to be fun.

-/-

 

Killian supposed, in retrospect, that he was a fool to think he could have exited he castle the way he came. Although, he hadn't expected Emma's father to be wandering around at this early hour, and for them to unfortunately collide. That had been a spot of bad luck he hadn't anticipated. 

At least he still had his head. 

For how long, Killian wasn't sure. Despite his age, King David was still quite strong and adept with a sword. He really hadn't expected to be swordfighting with Emma's father on this day. Then again, this was preferable to the dungeons, so Killian couldn't complain much.

Apart from the fact that he was half-convinced that his father-in-law was intent on killing him. 

Killian blocked the thrust of the king's sword with his own, and then spun out of the way. The move was a touch showy, but it caught the king off guard a bit. Liam had always teased him for the flair that Killian added to his techniques, calling him a dancer or implying he fought like a pirate. Killian brushed off both comments, as he liked his own style of combat, arguing that it added an element of surprise. In the case of the king, Killian was correct.

If only you could see me now, brother, Killian thought. Only Liam didn't want to see him. He wondered, not for the first time, if his brother would be attending the ball tonight. Emma had told him that Liam had received an invitation. It was bad form to reject an invitation from royalty, but Liam's anger ran deep.

His thoughts of Liam had distracted Killian enough that the king was able to advance, putting Killian more on defense than attack. He wondered how this should go. Killian was never one to throw a match. His competitive streak -- which had gotten him into trouble more often than not -- wouldn't allow it. Then again, he was sparring against the king. Would it be bad form not to let him win? Or would Emma's father be insulted if Killian didn't give the match his all?

The crowd that was forming didn't help at all. A few knights and guards had gathered to watch the sparring match. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian could even see a few exchanging coin. He knew as the minutes lapsed, more would come as the castle began to wake. Surely the king wouldn’t be happy if he lost before a crowd.

But “ _ a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets” _ , and Killian wanted the king’s respect. He knew that Emma’s father would never respect him if he sensed in any way that Killian had thrown the match. That settled things. Killian would give the fight his all.

Pity to the king.

Killian surged forward, pushing the king back. His opponent look surprised, but schooled his face quickly into an expression of pure determination. Were this any other sparring match, Killian would have found himself enjoying the fight. It was rare he had the opportunity to practice against someone with such skill. Why did his opponent have to be Emma’s father?

Killian wondered what Emma would say once she found out about the fight. Of course, there was a chance that she wouldn’t find out, and what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. But the crowd that amassed led him to believe that she would certainly be hearing about it from someone, if not from him, then one of her maids. He hoped she wouldn’t be too upset with him. She was, arguably, partially to blame. He had been leaving her room, after all.

That being said, sword fighting the king was a small price to pay. It couldn’t get much worse could it?

Apparently, it could, because the next thing Killian knew, a familiar voice was calling out over the murmurs of the crowd.

“David! Just what do you think you are doing?”

Both Killian and Emma’s father lowered their swords as Queen Snow marched toward them. Killian noted that both she and Emma had similar facial expressions when angry, and his own experience with Emma led him to believe that her mother was feeling quite murderous. Maybe he was going to lose his head, after all.

“Snow, we’re sparring,” the king explained, and he patted Killian’s shoulder jovially. Killian was intelligent enough to play along. He could tell that he was fishing for assistance, so he played along.

“Aye, Your Majesty. The King and I thought it would be exhilarating to start the morning with some swordplay. No better way to get one’s blood pumping through your veins, am I right?” Killian plastered on his widest grin.

 

The Queen appeared unconvinced, and crossed her arms over her chest. Emma did the same while angry. Wasn’t there a saying,  _ like mother, like daughter _ ? Now he understood where Emma got her fight from, not that the king didn’t have it himself. He’d quickly learned just how passionate her family could be.

“Well, you both appear quite awake. Let’s go inside, shall well? We have many things to discuss before the ball tonight,” Emma’s mother advised, her tone warning them both that there were expected to follow without complaint.

Both he and Emma’s father exchanged dark looks, knowing that they soon would likely be on the receiving end of an earful. Though the King certainly wasn’t fond of him, Killian could tell that he didn’t want the Queen involved, and that he wanted to work things out on his own. They put away their sparring equipment in silence under the watchful eye of the queen. Killian wondered what the guards thought of this. Was it normal?

They followed the Queen, speaking in jovial small-talk that felt strange considering the tension between them all. Even though they were discussing the weather, the decorations for the ball, and even the pastries that would be served, Killian was bracing himself for a lecture. Judging by the tenseness in King David’s gait, Killian could tell that he felt the same way. Eventually they made their way to the library, and the queen closed the doors after them.

As expected, she quickly turned around and demanded explanation.

“Just what were the two of you thinking? We have guests staying with us. What if they saw the two of you?” She placed her hands on her hips and arched her brow, another Emma-like quality.

“They would see two men sparring,” the king countered. His wife didn’t look quite convinced. “There was no harm.”

“Really? Because from my point-of-view, it looked like you were about to kill our daughter’s fiancé!”

“Husband,” Killian muttered under his breath, but neither of Emma’s parents paid his comment any mind, too caught up in their own argument.

“If you knew where I found him this morning, you would understand why,” Emma’s father argued back. He pointed to Killian – so much for solidarity, mate – and lowered his voice to a whisper. “He was sneaking out of Emma’s bedchambers!”

“Technically, I had left by that point, and was in the corridor,” Killian corrected. He never knew when to shut his mouth, and doubted he ever would.

“See? He admits it!”

Snow rolled her eyes. “Gods, David, are you going to pretend that we never had sex before we were married?”

“Technically Emma and I are married,” he reminded them. It was a very important point. He wasn’t just making love to an unwed princess, but rather to his wife, the princess. They had waited until their wedding night to consummate their relationship. They’d made that decision with purpose. Unfortunately, no one recognized that very important point.

“That doesn’t matter right now.”

Right.

“If anyone else saw him sneaking out of her room, then you know what they’d be saying about her,” Emma’s father argued, and Killian felt a pang of guilt in his gut at that.

“I was intending to leave earlier, but—“

“I swear, if you want to live, you will not finish that sentence.”

“David, hush,” Emma’s mother snapped. Killian felt a brief moment of relief before she turned her attention to him. “I won’t ask what you were thinking, because I’m sure you and I both know. What I will ask of you is that you think more in the future. Reputation matters, especially for a woman and a princess. I’m not asking for you to behave out of my own sense of propriety, but for Emma. Do not do that again.”

Emma.

Killian still wasn’t fond of the pomp and circumstance that had to go into these events. As it stood, in Killian’s opinion, royalty cared far too much about what other kingdom’s thought. But he was quickly learning the nuances of diplomacy, so he supposed he would understand at some point. What mattered most to him at this moment was Emma, and if it was best for Emma, he would suffer through what her mother requested of him.

For Emma’s sake.

“I’ll do my best.” At least when there was risk of being caught, Killian thought, not that he would tell her parents that.

“That’s all I ask,” Snow said, ignoring David’s protest that Killian hadn’t promised anything. As if deciding that the conversation was over, she placed her hands on her hips, and smiled. “Now that that’s over, you two need to go get ready. We all have a big day ahead.”

A big day, indeed. Tonight, they would be announcing his and Emma’s faux engagement. But first: he would be going on a hunt. It was Killian’s only hope that he wouldn’t be the prey. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here’s my next chapter! I’m loving all of these strong feelings about my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk . Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan , and @just-be-magnificent .

For as long as Leo could remember, there have been balls, over-the-top events that his family either hosted or to which they were invited. In his younger years ~~,~~ he never attended, and was watched by his governess while Mother and Father dressed in fancy clothing and danced the night away. He'd been jealous of Emma when she was finally of age to go, and begged her to stay or sneak him in. She refused. Oh, the cruelty of older siblings! Later, Leo decided that Emma had only been sparing him, because balls were boring and even worse, they were work.

Sit through this planning meeting. Decide on that color scheme. Entertain this dignitary from one faraway land. Dance with that dignitary from another faraway land. 

Sometimes he would play a game with it. He and Emma would whisper about the attractiveness of the various princes and dukes and knights and sailors that would attend these fetes. It was only now that he realized she had never explicitly pointed Killian out to him. He wondered if that was on purpose. Maybe she already had her plan set in mind at that first ball.

Not that it mattered now what she said to him then. Killian was here now, and a part of their lives. Killian was his brother, and Leo had always wanted a brother. As such, he was going to treat Killian as any brother should. Or rather, how he thought a brother should be treated. Killian already had an older brother, Liam, but Emma had whispered to him that they two weren't on speaking terms.

"He thinks Killian is being selfish," Emma had explained to him, looking completely put out and guilty. "And he asked him to choose between me and him."

Because of that, Leo had made it his mission to provide Killian the best brotherly love a man could ask for. He did choose Emma, after all. And seeing as how they both were miserable about the whole arrangement, he thought he would do his best to make them less miserable. That's what brothers were for, after all.

Leo decided this partially meant giving them the best "engagement" ball a couple could have. He'd been extra attentive during the planning meetings, and even ensured Remy would cook all ~~of~~ her favorites.   
  
Remy was really knocking himself out with the food, as well. The breakfast he served was full of the best pastries and meats anyone in the Enchanted Forest had seen. At least, that was Leo's opinion. The Duke of Weselton had also agreed, so Leo knew he wasn't completely biased.  
  
Emma was at the breakfast, as well, although she didn't appear to eat much. She looked quite exhausted. Leo didn't want to dwell on the reason why, despite being the one who had helped sneak Killian into the castle. Not that anyone knew that.   
  
"I know it was you who snuck Killian into the castle last night." 

"What?" he squeaked, surprised by Mother, who had snuck up behind him. 

"Am I to believe he came here on his own?" She quirked a brow, daring him to argue.

He shifted uncomfortably. He did so hate getting into trouble. "He's clever, you know." 

"Leo." 

"I was trying to make Emma happy," he explained. He never did well under pressure. He was sure if he were ever to be captured by pirates, he would crack under pressure and reveal all his secrets.

"I'm glad you care so much about her happiness," Snow said, but then her voice grew sharp. "Don't do it again."

"Okay, I won't." He was pretty sure he was lying, and that his mother knew he was lying, but she simply regarded him carefully before walking away. 

The day of a ball always kept her busy. She would both be entertaining the guests and ensuring everything went to plan. He knew she had a tea planned earlier with the queens who had traveled from afar, just as Emma would with many of the princesses. 

As for Leo, he and his father would be entertaining the male dignitaries with a hunt. Leo didn't enjoy hunts, nor did he enjoy the company of many of the princes whose kingdoms his family was allied. On the bright side, Killian would be there, dragged around to show off his prowess or whatever. Anything to make him appear like a better match for Emma. 

It was this that made him happy he wasn't the first born, nor was he a girl. As he prepared for the events of the day, it made him realize just how much people cared about such things. It was stupid, really, how much emphasis people placed on perception. What did it matter what that Killian wasn't born into nobility? Apparently a lot, to hear the council tell the tale. Honestly, Leo thought the fallout would be a whole lot worse if everyone found out they were obfuscating the truth. Not that Leo's opinion mattered very much.  
  
Those participating in the hunt were to meet outside the castle not long after breakfast. By the time Leo managed to make his way to the meeting place, a few people had already gathered. Killian was there, looking slightly green and very much like he was trying to fit in. He perked up a bit when he saw Leo. 

"How obvious will it be that I have no idea what I am doing?" he asked in a whisper. 

"I thought we talked this through," Leo replied. They had gone a hunt shortly after they had settled the terms of his and Emma's engagement. He wasn't good, but he wasn't terrible. "You'll be fine."

"You must be Killian Jones," a booming voice interrupted. Both Leo and Killian turned to see a rather brawny man approaching them. Leo recognized him instantly as Prince Philip. 

"How is married life treating you, Philip?" Leo asked, placing emphasis on the prince's name of Killian's benefit. Philip had married Princess Alexandra nearly a year ago. Leo knew that Emma wasn't too fond of Alexandra, but Philip was a fine fellow.

Philip laughed. "Wonderful, truly. Did you hear? We're expecting our first child a few months time."

"Congratulations," Killian said, offering his hand to the prince to shake. 

“I should be offering you congratulations as well, assuming the rumors of your engagement are true,” Philip replied, shaking Killian’s hand. “Tell me, now, how did you manage to win dear Emma’s heart?”

“When I find out, I’ll tell you,” Killian responded with a laugh. This was good he truly was a charismatic fellow, and charming – pun not intended – as well. Not that Philip was a particularly cantankerous man.

Any further conversation was delayed by Father arriving, meaning the hunt soon would begin. Hopefully, Killian would prove to be as effective with a spear or arrows as he was with his words. One could hope, right? Besides, Leo doubted the whole experience would be terrible….right?

-/-

Emma sat and listened as Princess Alexandra spoke at considerable length about her pregnancy. She supposed it was exciting news. Not only was Alexandra bringing life into the world, the considerable stress of providing an heir would be displaced – assuming all went well with the pregnancy, of course. Emma was already dreading that part of her marriage. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to bear children with Killian – she did – it was the expectation of it all. Currently, no one wanted her to fall with child. _That_ would be terrible. But the moment the wedding band was placed on her finger – well, the one her family chose to recognize – then Emma knew all she would hear would be questions from others asking when she and Killian would conceive. So she could feel happiness for Alexandra on that end…it was just that she didn’t want to only hear about her pregnancy.

“I know Philip is hoping for a boy, but I truly think it would be wonderful to see him with a girl. He would be so doting,” Alexandra explained. Her hands were placed delicately on her barely-there bump. Emma wouldn’t have even noticed it existed had it not been for her discussing it.

“Have you discussed names?” Melody asked.

“If it’s a boy, we thought we’d continue the family tradition of calling him Philip,” Alexandra answered with a smile. “Though I have no idea what we’d do if it were a girl. Maybe Rose, after his grandmother.”

“I’ve never been a fan of naming children after relatives,” Emma commented before taking a sip of her tea.

“Isn’t your brother named after your grandfather?” Alexandra asked, quirking a brow.

“I didn’t name him,” Emma responded, as she placed down her delicate teacup. “I think it’s too much pressure, in my opinion. I mean, you have to live up to whomever you’re named after. At least if you have your own name, the only person you have to compare yourself to is you.”

“If I ever have children, I probably wouldn’t name them after anyone either,” Melody added. She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I can’t imagine Triton going over well on land, and of my aunts, the only name I truly like is Alana.”

“Well, when you two have children, you can name them how you please,” Alexandra replied with a sniff. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her attention fully to Emma. “Speaking of, should we expect any announcements from you soon, Emma?”

Emma sat up straighter in her chair. Just what was Alexandra getting at? “We’re officially announcing our engagement tonight. Don’t expect any children yet.”

“But I overheard mother saying your wedding will be in just a few months!” Alexandra exclaimed. “And this is the first time any of us have heard of your Captain. Surely you can be honest with us. We are friends, after all.”

“Alexandra, you aren’t implying—“

“I’m simply curious, Melody,” Alexandra said, cutting off the other princess. She leaned closer to Emma. “Now, I shouldn’t be saying this, considering my condition you know, but I do know of some potions that would take care of the situation, if you didn’t desire to be trapped with the Captain.“

Emma closed her eyes. She envisioned slapping her, the satisfaction of her open palm connecting with Alexandra’s face, her resentment at the accusations and implications building to one perfect moment. Melody would clap her own hands over her mouth, muffling a gasp. Alexandra would turn from shock to anger.

“What were you thinking? I’m pregnant! You could have hurt the baby,” she would say, her hands moving to her untouched stomach. Because, of course, that’s what she would do.

But none of that happened because Emma knew better than to smack a visiting princess, no matter how much she wanted to or how much she felt the other woman deserved it. There were enough whisperings already, enough to drive Emma mad, and her physically lashing out would do no good.

Instead Emma clenched and unclenched her fingers, and plastered on her fakest smile. Cocking her head, she mused aloud, “I wonder if anyone made the same suggestions about your parents, Alexandra. After all, from what I recall, wasn’t your mother also lowborn?”

Alexandra turned her nose up at this. “That’s different.”

 _Everyone_ knew the story of Cinderella and her prince. If they could be a fairytale, then why couldn’t she and Killian? Emma was somewhat surprised by Alexandra’s implication considering her own parents’ fairytale, but then again, Alexandra had rarely been the most self-aware woman. While the near-loss of Emma led her parents to prepare her for all things, Alexandra’s parents took the opposite approach, spoiling her to bits and leaving her to want for nothing. Of course, it didn’t help that Alexandra was an only child, whereas Emma also had her brother. The kingdom’s future rested entirely on Alexandra in ways it did not Emma.   
  
“My mother is a mermaid, so who am I to judge?” Melody cut in, earning a smile from Emma and glare from Alexandra.

“How did your father’s kingdom act to that?”

“I don’t know. Mother and Papa rarely talk about it,” Melody replied, her tone turning cool. “No one has complained, as far I know. An alliance with the mer-kingdom is quite the match, you know.”

Unsatisfied that Melody had offered any information of relevance, Alexandra turned her attentions elsewhere. “I’m surprised they’re not making you abdicate,” she mused, picking up her tea. “Do you remember when Princess Arisia married that merchant? She had to step down from the throne and hand it to her brother.”

“Things are different in the Eastern Isles,” Melody commented. “Though, from what I recall, the merchant had been married prior.  I believe that had something to do with it.”

“Does anyone find it strange that it’s the women who are being punished for supposedly marrying down, and not the men?” Emma asked aloud, anger prickling beneath her skin.

“Marriages are more precarious for us, you know this Emma,” Alexandra said slowly, almost as if she was talking to a small child. Emma clenched her fists, her nails digging into her skin, willing herself not to act out. She would be the better person.

“Thankfully, my parents respect my choices when it comes to marriage, and are standing beside Killian and I fully,” Emma gritted out. Sure, there was the whole matter of her running away to elope Killian because they were somewhat worried about parental support, but her parents mostly supported her in the aftermath. She just had to do things their way for bit. Not that she was going to tell Alexandra that.

“Well, I suppose you’re more likely to produce heirs than your brother at any rate,” Alexandra commented with a shrug. “Your parents are quite progressive, aren’t they?”

Emma dropped her tea, the cup falling to the ground and shattering, tea spilling everywhere. Alexandra jumped, startled, while Melody gasped.

“Leave Leo out of this.”

“No need to raise our voice and make a mess in your own home, Emma,” Alexandra replied curtly. She set down her own cup, and stood, smoothing out her skirt. “At any rate, pregnancy is exhausting. I’m going to have a lie down before the festivities tonight.”

She walked briskly out of the room, leaving Emma and Melody alone. Emma was fuming, but she tried not to let it show further. She waited until the sound of Alexandra’s footsteps disappeared down the hallway before she bent down to pick up the broken pieces of glass. Melody joined her, patting a tea towel down to soak up the liquid.

“Alexandra can be a real barnacle head, can’t she?”

“Pretty much.”

They finished cleaning together. It was obvious that the tea time was over. Not that Emma particularly minded too much. She was exhausted and a little too stressed to play hostess at the time. Besides, she wasn’t particularly close with Melody, and didn’t feel like divulging much more to the princess. They traveled in similar circles, what with being princesses of similar ages and all. But they had never bonded and Emma didn’t want to do that today.

“I have some things to do before the ball tonight. Will you be fine on your own for a few hours?” Emma asked.

“Oh, of course. I can’t imagine how you must be feeling, big engagement announcement and all,” Melody replied, her voice chipper. “I think I will go down by the docks and see the fish. There are different ones here, you know.”

Emma never paid much attention to the fish outside of eating them, but she supposed she could take the half-mermaid at her word. “I’m sure that will be enjoyable.”

“Always is.” Melody suddenly pulled Emma into a hug. “If you truly love your Captain, then I am happy for you, Emma.”

“Ah, thank you,” Emma replied, taken aback by the princess’ sudden kindness. “And I do, love him, that is.”

Melody flashed a grin. “Good. I would completely hate for Alexandra to be right.”

And then Melody was gone, leaving Emma to nothing more than her thoughts. Her tea with the princesses vexed her, and she found herself wanting something to do without knowing exactly what. She bristled at Alexandra’s accusations – that Emma was only announcing her engagement because she was pregnant, that she didn’t truly love Killian, that something was wrong with Leo for being who he was. Wasn’t the point of carrying on with this sham was so that people didn’t outright suspect scandal?

Huffing, she stormed from the tea room down the long corridors to the castle. She likely should go prepare for the ball, rest some more, entertain more guests, but she simply didn’t want to. It was times like this that she wished that she could have gone along with the hunt. At least that would be exhilarating, and likely be without the gossiping. While she knew men gossiped, they did so differently, and most important, she would be away from the likes of Princess Alexandra.

Of course, even if she wasn’t along for the hunt, it didn’t mean she couldn’t also go shooting. With a devious grin, Emma made her way down to the archery range. This was her favorite way to exercise her frustrations, imagine anything and anyone she wanted as targets. Grabbing her bow and some arrows, Emma readied herself. She’d always been more adept with a sword than a bow, much to the chagrin of her mother, but it was still a fun pastime.

Emma readied her weapon, and drew the arrow. She aimed, then released the arrow which hit the target with a satisfying _thunk_ , but it was nowhere near the bull’s-eye. No, she certainly wouldn’t be carrying a bow into any battle she fought, but it was effective in her goal of venting her feelings.

She shot again. This time, the arrow missed the target. She harrumphed, annoyed. Well, she couldn’t imagine the target was Alexandra and miss. That defeated the purpose of the whole exercise. She tried again with a third arrow, but just as she was about to release, she was startled by a voice.

“You need to lower your elbow. You’ll never hit anything with as high as you’ve got it.”

Heeding her mother’s advice, she lowered her arm somewhat. The arrow hit the target. Emma turned as raised her arm and bow. “Looks like you were right.”

“I always am when it comes to these things,” her mother replied, coming next to her. She reached out for the bow. “Do you mind?”

“Go for it,” Emma replied, handing it over. She marveled as her mother prepared her shot. She hit a bull’s-eye. “How’d you get so  good at this?”

“A lot of practice. It didn’t help that I was in a life or death situation,” Snow replied, her voice light. “Care to explain why you’re out here instead of in there?” She pointed back to the castle.

“Only if you do the same,” Emma answered. Her mother quirked a brow, and Emma gave in. “If I had to hear Alexandra talk about her pregnancy for a moment longer, I thought I would die.”

“Funny, I had the same thought with Ella talking about Alexandra,” her mother mused, earning a laugh. “You’re just like your father, you know.”

“How so?” Emma cocked her head to the side, feeling confused. It wasn’t the first time her mother had told her this. She’d heard it often over the years, but this comment somehow came out of nowhere. After all, it was her mother’s preferred weapon that Emma was using, and they both were annoyed over similar topics. Her father had nothing to do with it all.

“Well, this morning I found your father out here, venting his frustrations with a sword,” Snow explained. Her expression quickly turned conspiratorial. “Of course, he was fighting Killian and not a fake target, so there’s that.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “He was _what_?”

“It turns out, he wasn’t too happy about finding Killian wandering down a certain corridor this morning. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. Truly, she didn’t want either of her parents to find out about her tryst with Killian, but most especially her father.

“Killian performed against your father quite valiantly. I think David was impressed with his swordsmanship, not that he’s going to admit it any time soon,” her mother went on, ignoring Emma’s embarrassment. “Of course, I had to break it up, and talk to both of them. I’m sure Killian will fill you in on it later.”

“Oh gods.”

Her mother pulled her into a hug. “I know I’m past the point of telling what you can and cannot do with him at this point, but do try to be discreet…and be careful.”

“Alexandra has already accused me of being with child,” Emma announced when her mother pulled away. “Wasn’t this whole charade supposed to avoid all of that? She won’t be the first, you know.”

Her mother looked at her sympathetically. “We didn’t say there wouldn’t be whispers. People are going to talk, but hopefully fewer will now. You will have us on your side.”

“And I wouldn’t have before?”

“We’re always on your side, Emma, but this will allow the rest of the world to see your father and I standing there with you when you say your vows,” her mother explained. “Don’t underestimate the value of public support and the sanctity of following tradition.”

Emma sighed, unsure if she truly believed her mother. Unfortunately, it was too late to turn away now without hurting everyone’s reputation. “May I have the bow back?”

Her mother handed it over. “You have time to stay out here for  a while. It will be good for you.”

“Thanks,” she replied, once again feeling frustrated. She watched her mother go back up to the castle before turning back to the target. She heeded her mother’s advice with stance, and shot.

Bulls-eye.

Maybe there was something to be said about listening to Snow White. Not that Emma would ever admit to it.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I really love how much you all love Leo. Secondly, here’s my next chapter! I’m loving all of these strong feelings about my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk . Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan , and @just-be-magnificent .

Snow looked into the mirror, studying her appearance carefully. The dress was beautiful, a deep emerald with silver threaded through in intricate patterns. She’d worn many dresses over the decades to many balls. When she was younger, it had been her favorite aspects of these affairs. They were large and ornate, and reminded her of her mother.

“Some would say it’s unfair how beautiful you look.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself, Charming.”

She could see David behind her, fastening the buttons of his jacket. Regardless of his age, he looked just as handsome as he did when they first met. His hair was now gray, and there were wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but he was still the man who had stolen her heart. Age and the many memories they shared together had only made him more attractive to her over the years. 

He walked up behind her, and placed his hands on her hips. “They weren’t kidding when they called you the fairest of them all.”

“I believe you’ve said that for every ball we’ve attended together,” she teased, leaning back into his embrace.

“Well, it’s the truth. And as your husband, I made a vow to be honest, didn’t I?” He pressed a kiss to her temple before spinning her around and pulling her into a waltz embrace. They did this every now and then before the balls they attended, allowing themselves a moment to just be themselves and have solitary moment for one another not dominated by guests.

“Speaking of husbands, how did our daughter’s husband handle his first hunt today?” David’s expression pulled tight. He was going to have to deal with Killian sooner or later, though it was looking increasingly like later. “David?” 

He sighed. “Let’s just say he’s a better swordsman than archer.” 

“From the looks of things this morning, he appears to be a mighty fine swordsman.”

“Well, let’s put it this way, for as much skill he has with a sword, he has none of it with a bow or spear.”

Snow winced. “That bad, huh?”

“I will give it to him that he tried, and he didn’t quit or complain once,” David commented, and Snow wondered if it pained him to deliver such a compliment. But still, it was progress. David was quiet for a moment as they swayed together. “There’s no getting rid of him, is there?”

“I’m afraid that ship has sailed,” Snow answered. She brushed her hands against the hair at the nape of his neck. “He makes Emma happy.”

“She hasn’t seemed happy lately.” 

“Don’t you think his absence might have a little to do with it?” 

“Possibly,” David replied with a frown. After a beat he sighed, “Probably.”

They continued their own private dance, spinning around their bedchamber. Snow knew they would have to leave soon. After all, the ball couldn’t begin without them present, but they were caught up in each other. It was a pleasant moment of relaxation. Snow wasn’t ready to let it go.

“Can you believe we’re announcing formally Emma’s engagement tonight?” David asked suddenly, breaking the silence. 

“Considering how I didn’t know she was interested in anyone a month ago, barely,” she answered with a laugh, knowing that her answer wasn’t the one David was seeking.

“It feels like yesterday that she was born, and now…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes turned glassy. He shook his head, as if trying to clear his mind. “I guess I’m not ready for her to grow up yet.”

“I think she’s already there.”

David huffed beside her. “I refuse to accept that.”

“You will have to at some point,” Snow reminded him as he spun her around. 

“Let me just pretend that she’s five and trying to sneak into the ball tonight,” David asked, his voice light with memory. He pulled Snow closer to him. “Do you remember when she kept trying to do that?”

“Yes, of course I do!” Snow remembered how Emma would whine about being too young to attend the balls, and would steal away from her governess to race through the castle to see the dancing. Snow could still recall looking over to see her young daughter peeking behind a column, still dressed in her sleeping gown, her eyes wide as she marveled at the scene before her. “You encouraged her, you know. You would let her dance on your boots before sending her off.”

“You know I can’t deny my daughter a dance anymore than I can you,” David replied with a laugh. Emma had always had David wrapped around her tiny finger. Her father had been smitten with her from the moment he first held her in his arms. It only made sense that the situation was weighing on him, especially considering how suddenly it came about. “Do you think I’ll be able to steal a dance with her tonight?”

“She’ll give you one gladly. I swear it,” Snow promised before lifting up to kiss David softly.

They stayed together a moment longer, reveling in the peace and one another before pulling away. Their dance had ended, and the night was soon to begin. Snow squeezed David’s hand tightly. “Ready to announce our daughter’s engagement?”

“No,” he replied. “But let’s do it anyway.” 

They left their bedchamber, neither one hurrying to get to the ballroom. They would be the first ones there, ready to greet their guests. Emma, Leo, and Killian would be joining them. By now, the rumors had certainly spread that Emma was engaged, and had been verbally confirmed. But the announcement tonight would make it public and completely official. Thankfully, there hadn’t been any further rumblings about the elopement. While Snow was sure the story had spread outwards from the castle, it likely was quashed by the rumors and confirmation of the engagement.

She was conflicted about the subterfuge, especially with how it was weighing on Emma. But they were already too far in at this point, and besides, this would be best for their family in the long run. It would give everyone time to acclimate to the change, and prepare for whatever future was to come. 

Leo was the only one in the ballroom when they arrived. He looked fine in his white and gold jacket. He was so much taller now. It was hard to believe that he would be eighteen in a month’s time. 

“Where’s your sister?” David asked, clearly perturbed that Emma and Killian were not yet in attendance.

“We’re here,” came Emma’s voice, hurrying from one of the other corridors. She led Killian by the hand into the large ballroom. Her dress was beautiful, a light blue – almost white – with intricate lace and beading, and feathers on the shoulders. She looked like a swan – the perfect bride-to-be. Killian, by contrast, wore his finest naval blues. They looked like a good pair. 

“You’re late,” David said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. Snow was sure that he hadn’t quite forgotten the incident in the morning.

“Only barely.”

“True, they only beat you by a minute. Maybe less,” Leo added, earning a glare from David.

They stood together, an awkward family in the calm before the oncoming storm. Not that the ball was going to be a disaster, no, but it would be large with many people in attendance. There would be dancing and talking and dancing some more. And by the end of it, everyone would know just who their daughter was going to be marrying.

It was no wonder then that Killian spoke first, quiet and confused. “So what do we do now?”

“Now? We welcome our guests.”

-/-

 

The ball was opulent, almost excessive by even the standards Killian had observed over the course of his time with the Navy. Of course, it wasn't every day that they were celebrating the princess' engagement, so Killian supposed that the decadence of the event was deserved. He surely believed that Emma deserved the best, even if others disagreed that he might be it.

Emma was tucked against him, her right arm looped through his left. This was something he’d dreamed about months ago, the ability to be with her in public, but for the longest time he dared not believe his fantasy would become a reality. But she was here, they were holding each other, and celebrating their "engagement". It was an overwhelming thought, not that he let it show.

Emma, being the person who knew him best, leaned up and whispered in his ear, "You're doing fine," and Killian felt his nerves calm somewhat.

To be honest, he had been somewhat apprehensive about the ball. He was elated to finally be able to "court" Emma in public, but it also meant interacting with her people, and most important, proving in their eyes he was worthy of her. That was a point that Emma argued with him on, because she didn't care what others thought of him. But he did, and he dreaded the possibility that he could hurt her standing in some way. Not enough to scurry away like a coward, of course, but enough that it haunted his dreams. 

It didn't help that the hunt earlier was an utter humiliation. He was abjectly terrible. He'd been given a bow and arrows to use, and as he'd never trained with the weapon before, he was miserable at it. He's nearly shot a Duke instead of the hog. Emma's brother swore it could have been worse, and he supposed that was true -- he could have killed someone or himself -- but regardless he'd hoped to put on a better show. If only they had gone sailing!  
  
But the time for sailing had passed, and now he was with Emma. They were working their way through the room, receiving congratulations from the various guests. Though he'd been to these balls before, he'd rarely interacted with many of the guests, preferring to stick to his fellow naval officers in attendance. Every now and then, he had struck up a conversation with a pretty lass, he was only a man, but with the exception of Emma, he’d never sought out the other royals present. But now they were shaking his hand, congratulating him and Emma. He did his best to remember the names of the individuals in the sea of faces he saw. He knew that was an important aspect to diplomacy, remembering people, and he wanted so terribly to provide and do good. He just wasn't sure how.   
  
Throughout the night, Killian kept an eye out for his brother. Killian knew that Liam had been invited. Despite her feelings toward his brother, Emma had saw to that. But as they weaved through the sea of people, he didn't see his brother once. He saw other fellow naval officers. They either smiled at him or looked upon him with expressions of jealousy and resentment, reminding him that not everything was well. He tried his best to mask his disappointment.   
  
Feeling a need for distraction, he pulled Emma to the dance floor. "May I have this dance, my love?"  
  
"If it will get you to smile, of course."  
  
"I have been smiling," he argued. In fact, his cheeks hurt considerably from the smile that he had plastered on for the night.   
  
"Mmm, but it's not a real one," she replied. She squeezed his hand. "Don't get me wrong, you have a nice smile, by I think I prefer the real Killian Jones grin."  
  
"Oh, you've catalogued my smiles now?" He gave her his best roguish grin, waggling his brows in a way that he knew would make her laugh. His heart swooped when he succeeded.  
  
"Oh, yes," she replied between giggles. "You have a smile for when you think you ought to be smiling, which you've been wearing all night. You have a very wicked grin when you are thinking something impure, which is for the best I haven't seen tonight. You have a silly grin, and there's my favorite – pure, unaltered, happy Killian Jones."   
  
"You must see that one a lot then, because nothing makes me happier than being with you."  
  
"Look who's decided he suddenly wanted to be charming," she teased, though Killian delighted in the pretty pink flush of her cheeks.   
  
"I believe Charming is your father, love. Now if you wanted to call me dashing, perhaps..."  
  
Emma laughed, full and loud. If anyone looked over at them as they danced, Killian paid them no mind. He was too enchanted by the vision before him, Emma smiling and flushed in her pretty blue dress, happy in his arms. For a moment he allowed himself to forget the embarrassment of the hunt, the fact that her "charming" father still wasn't very fond of him, and his own desire to fit in among his love's people. This was everything he wanted, and the end goal of what he and Emma had fought for the moment they snuck away to elope. The situation might have unfolded in a way that neither expected, but in that moment, Killian couldn't bring himself to care. Because right then, he was dancing with his wife, and he couldn't be happier.  
  
"I love you so much," he told her, too overcome with feeling to hold back any longer.   
  
"Good, because I love you too," she replied, smiling softly.   
  
Whatever else they were about to say was interrupted by a clinking of glass. Both Emma and Killian turned to Emma’s parents standing at the front of the room.  
  
“We have an announcement to make,” Emma’s father said loudly, his voice booming over the crowd. Killian’s heart began to pound wildly in his chest. This was the moment they had been building toward for the past month. “As many of you have noticed, Princess Emma has taken to dancing with one particular man tonight. His name is Killian Jones, and he is a Captain in our Navy, and he is also the man who intends to marry my daughter…”  
  
Killian flushed as all eyes turned to him. He felt Emma squeeze his hand in response, grounding him.  
  
“Ever since my daughter was born, I would think about her future. I would wonder what kind of woman she would become and the type of leader she would be. As it stands, she has exceeded all those expectations. I also wondered what sort of man she would marry. If I were to be honest, I never would have expected her to choose a Captain in the Navy.”

Killian’s heart stuttered, and he felt Emma stiffen next to him. All of his worst nightmares flashed before his eyes. What was Emma’s father intending to say? Was he going to denounce him in front of everyone?

“…then again, I’m sure Snow’s father never expected her to end up with the likes of me. It’s funny how life can defy our expectations, isn’t it? What I do know is that I expected the man Emma would choose to marry to look at her like she is the sun, to respect her, and to do whatever it took protect her and her heart. And, well, he exceeded my expectations there, as well. Everyone, let’s take a round of applause and honor tonight my daughter, Emma, and her fiancé, Killian Jones.”  
  
As the room burst into a wave of applause, Killian considered her father’s word. He knew the king didn’t mean them, at least the ones meant for him. But Killian could prove him wrong. He hoped so, at least. He could be the man of honor King David envisioned for his daughter. And as he turned his attention to Emma, she looked back at him, tears brimming in her lovely green eyes, and in that moment, Killian Jones found peace.

 


	12. Chapter 12

The air tasted of salt and the wind whipped around Emma's skirt as she approached the docks. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, but determination pushed her forward. It was early yet, the sun had barely risen, but the docks were rife with activity, sailors moving about in preparation for their upcoming journey. 

A few heads turned as she walked toward her goal, _True Love's Victory_ , a rather large ship owned by her Navy. It had been commissioned in honor of her birth nearly two decades prior, and although the name was somewhat embarrassing, the ship was quite nice. It wasn't the _Jewel_ , but few ships were.

Few knew she was here. As much as she loathed to, she brought a guard. If she was caught -- an outcome that almost seemed like an inevitability -- she could then argue she was being safe. She wasn't fond of sneaking out of the castle so early, as she had stayed up quite late at the ball, but Emma had a mission, and when she was determined, she would not be deterred.

Finally, she reached the ship, and mentally prepared herself to put on her best air of authority. She would, after all, need it. 

"May I help you?" a man called down to her from the ship. She could tell by the marks on his jacket he was a lieutenant. He also didn't seem to recognize her, judging by the way his eyes lazily drifted from her face to her chest.

"Yes, Lieutenant, you may. I wish to speak to Captain Liam Jones," she replied. She raised her chin as if asking him to defy her. "Tell him Princess Emma is here, so he best not keep me waiting."

It amused Emma to watch how the lieutenant's eyes practically bugged out of his head at the realization that she was his princess. His disappeared quickly, likely too shocked to say anything further, and Emma waited expectantly. She heard a raising of voices, and a few moments later, Liam Jones appeared before her.

"Princess, what are you doing here?"

"As I told your lieutenant, I'm here to talk," she answered, not giving him an out to deny her request. "May we speak in your quarters?"

Liam appeared as if he wanted to argue, but he held his tongue and beckoned her onto the deck. Her guard wanted to argue, but Emma waved him off. She was safe enough with Liam, and she didn't want anyone else privy to their conversation. She followed him, taking note of the gawking sailors as she passed. She wondered what they knew about her relationship with Killian. Their "engagement" had been an open secret before, but she knew how rumors grew. Liam was new to this ship, and Killian had been gifted his old ship. What did they think of that? Killian had admitted to her that he was having some issues with the crew of the _Jewel_ exerting his authority. Did Liam have the same problems?

Emma was still musing this as she followed Liam into his quarters. It was remarkably neat. A map was spread out on one of the table. He had likely been reviewing their intended course when she arrived. He gestured for her to sit down, and he took the chair opposite of her.

"What do you want, princess?" he asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised a brow. His expression reminded her of Killian, though it lacked his usual enthusiasm.

"You can call me Emma, you know. We're family."

"I would prefer to call you by your title, if you don't mind."

"I do mind, actually." She had no intentions of being soft with him. "You weren't at the ball last night."

"No, _Emma_ , I wasn't." 

"You were invited. I saw to it. Did you not receive your invitation?"

Liam surprised her by standing and crossing the small room to his desk. He rooted through one of drawers before pulling out a piece of parchment, and he handed it to her. It was his invitation. "I received it."

"An you still didn't come."  
  
"Quite astute, you are," he remarked. Emma frowned. She did not appreciate his sarcasm. "Are you honestly here to scold me for not attending your party? You do realize I am setting out today on a mission for your family." 

"You're escorting a merchant ship to and from Arrendale. That is hardly the most arduous mission," Emma replied. Liam looked taken aback, almost as if he didn't expect her to know where he was heading. She wasn't a silly princess, no matter what he thought. "Regardless, the ball was thrown half in Killian's honor. You should have been there."

"I should have been at his wedding, but neither you nor he thought to have me there," Liam replied, his voice tinged with a hint of venom. "I am not some toy for you to play around with as you see fit."  
  
"I never implied as much," Emma replied tersely. Their meeting was going exactly as she had expected, which frustrated her. "He missed you being there, you know. He wanted you there."

As much as Killian tried to pretend he wasn’t bothered by his brother’s absence, his melancholy was obvious. Emma knew how much Killian’s relationship with Liam meant to him, and that the estrangement was weighing heavily on him. Guilt plagued her, because she felt it was partially her fault that the two were at odds. Though she felt that Liam was mostly acting like an ass, at the end of the day, Killian chose her. She couldn’t take that lightly ~~,~~ and, as his wife, she intended on trying to see things through.   
  
“Not everyone gets what they want, Emma, not that I expect you to know that.”

His words stung. Did he really think so little of her? Unwilling to let him know his words hurt, Emma sat up a little bit straighter, and refused to address his dig. “Killian’s your brother. He told me how close you were. You can’t honestly tell me you want to throw that all away.”

“He’s the one who chose to throw it all away,” Liam snapped, banging his hand on the table. Emma jumped in in surprise. “Tell me, if my little brother and I were so close, then how was it that I never heard of your elopement? If we were so close, then why does he have my ship? If we were so close, why is it that you’re here and not him? Did he not wish to see me?”

“He thinks you don’t care,” Emma argued, her voice raising. “I’m sorry our secrecy hurt you, but there’s nothing we can do about that now. But we can build toward the future, one where we’re a family.”

Liam was quiet for a long moment, and Emma almost believed he was considering her words. She felt a flicker of hope, believing that she might have gotten through to him when –

“I believe that we are at an impasse, Princess,” Liam said. He looked away from her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do. We’re set to sail out in two hours time, and I don’t wish for there to be any delays.”

“You’re not going to hear me out?” Emma asked, somewhat shocked by his curtness. Surely he wasn’t ending their conversation so soon! She had only just gotten here, and they were discussing Killian.  

“I have my duties, Emma,” Liam replied, standing. “I’m sure you have yours. Now, if you excuse me—“

“You have your duty to your brother!” Emma snapped. She stood and marched over to him, pointing her finger at his face. “I know you don’t think kindly of me. Right now, I don’t think too kindly of you either. But here’s the thing: I believe in family. I have a little brother, and I couldn’t ever imagine treating him the way you are acting toward Killian. I was raised to believe family sticks together, no matter how bad things get. And whether we like it or not, you and I, we’re family now too. So I’m here, fighting for our family.”

Liam raised his hand, and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was something Emma had seen Killian do a million times over. Liam took a deep breath before speaking. “Then, as someone who considers me _family_ , please oblige my request to drop this conversation now.”

“Fine then. I’ll go.”

She’d heard all her life that a good leader chooses their battles, and that losing one battle didn’t necessarily mean the war was lost. If she had to apply those tactics to her relationship with Liam Jones, then so be. She took a step back from him, and walked toward the ladder that led out of the Captain’s Quarters and back to the deck. Unwilling to allow Liam to have to final word, she cast a look over her shoulder back to him.

“You’ll regret this, you know. Someday, not today, you’ll look back and wish you’d been there, or that you’d listened to me. You better hope it’s not too late.”

And then Emma was gone, climbing back up to the deck. Liam did not follow her, nor did he call after her. She didn’t expect him to. He might have gotten what he wanted from that meeting, but Emma was not finished fighting for her family – even if it included him. Emma Swan had a plan, and it had only just begun.   
  


-/-  
  


There was nothing more tranquil than nights at sea. The only sounds to be heard were the occasional creak of the ships, and the lapping of the waves against the ship as it carried forward to its destination. The night sky was clear, stars smattering across the inky black backdrop. The only light was that of the full moon. As a child, Liam had heard tales of werewolves terrifying villagers during this time. They scared then, but not now. Monsters don't terrify him anymore. Even the kraken did not haunt his dreams. He supposed that was what becoming a man was all about. 

Not that he had a childhood. After Father left, he'd had to grow up remarkably fast in order to ensure his and Killian's safety. He didn't have time to quiver in fear like a small boy. Any hesitance hurt their chance of survival, and survival was paramount. But he and Killian were no longer slaves. They were men living their own, radically different lives. Liam had dedicated his life to the navy, and Killian had dedicated his to a woman.

Liam had been shocked when the princess had arrived unannounced at the ship and demanded his attention. He hadn't spoken to her since that day at the castle when his life had been upended, and only sparingly to Killian. She'd have some nerve to approach him unaware, and to imply the situation had been his fault. 

She'd surprised him, as well. He grudgingly had to admit that she cared about his brother's feelings. He wondered where that level of consideration had disappeared during her and Killian's secret courtship. Regardless, if Killian was so disappointed, then he should have been the one to reach out. Not Emma.

Gods, what had his life become? A princess was playing messenger between him and his brother! 

He was still bitter about her role in all of this. After all, it was she who had all the power. He and Killian were the marionettes to her family's puppet masters. She was siren who seduced his brother away, and her parents pulled the strings to ensure she got her away. With the engagement announced publicly now, as had been the intention of the ball, Liam felt somewhat comforted by the fact that she wouldn't toss Killian aside if he didn't live up to her whims and expectations. Liam had come to learn quickly that being royal was all about perception. His own standing was evidence enough of that.

Liam didn't miss the irony that he lost his ship because of the princess, and now he sailed a vessel inspired by her. True Love's Victory was a fine enough ship. She was beautifully crafted, and easy to sail. But she wasn't the Jewel, and that ate at him. He deserved the promotion and the ship. They had no right to transfer him, and give both his ship and hopeful title to Killian.   
  
Not that Killian would be keeping it for long. It was all a smokescreen to keep make him appear more polished. He would be expected to give up many of his naval responsibilities and transition into something different once he married Emma. Regardless, that didn't keep people from speculating. He'd already heard murmurs that Killian's association with the princess was what gained him his captaincy once rumors began to surface of their relationship. 

Liam had to hand it to the royal family, however. How they managed to dilute the rumor mill regarding Killian and the princess' relationship, he wanted to know. Any claims that the princess had snuck away with his brother to elope sounded like an absurd exaggeration, not the truth. There were competing rumors, of course. The princess and Killian had been caught in a compromising position. Another claimed they had been secretly courting, and announced their courtship publicly to their family, and everything was damage control. He'd heard one rumor that they had only been secretly engaged. Running away in the dead of night to elope sounded like too much of a stretch to the public. 

As it stood, very few people knew the truth, and those that did wouldn't admit it as such. As angry as Liam was with Killian, he played along. He defended Killian's capabilities as a Captain, and praised his promotion. He evaded when asked about his brother's relationship with the princess, but did so with a dashing smile and a wink and a promise of "you'll see."  
  
Because for as much as Liam loathed the entire situation, he still loved his brother, and he wasn't about to muck up Killian's choice. He wouldn't support it, and he would keep his distance, but he wouldn't ruin for him. If Killian ever realized the mistake he made, Liam would be waiting.

That was why Emma's words still rankled Liam. Her accusations that he had somehow betrayed his family were wrong. Of course Liam knew what family meant! He'd fought tooth and nail to ensure that he and Killian survived. He's sacrificed so much to ensure his family's safety. How dare she accuse him of failing Killian! How could she not see that?  
  
It was no matter. Emma in her ivory tower could have her own opinions about family. As if she knew anything about sacrifice! Her parents, possibly, but not her.  
  
She's not the girl he would have chosen for Killian, that was for certain. Not that he had anyone in mind for his brother, but never in his life would he have paired his brother with the fiery princess. Killian should be with someone who understood him and his life, a kindred spirit that wouldn't force him into a life in which he didn't belong. That wasn't Emma. But it was too late to dwell on "what might have been."   
  
It was also too late in the night to be dwelling on his brother's love life. He knew he should be sleeping, but stress was keeping him awake. It was why he was still patrolling the deck, leaning against the side of the ship and staring out to the quiet waters, hoping it would soothe him. Unfortunately, it wasn't working. He was just about to go below deck to turn in -- or at the very least, attempt to sleep -- when something unusual caught his eye. 

It was bird, fluttering around his ship. He was no stranger to seeking gulls every now and then, but this was a sparrow. He approached the bird. Sparrows didn't travel this far, and not at sea. Had one hid below deck with none of his crew noticing? 

As he approached, however, he noticed something even stranger. It was carrying something. This piqued his interest, as this was a very strange occurrence. He'd heard of magical happenings in Arrendale, but they were still a week out for arriving at port there.   
  
To Liam's surprise, however, the bird flew towards him, fluttering around him expectantly.   
  
Liam reached out for the bird, and he untangled what was tied to it’s leg. It was parchment, perhaps a letter. Knowing he couldn't read it in the dark, he hurried down to his quarters and lit a few candles.  
  
He unrolled the parchment, and gasped in surprise. The note was addressed to him.

_Liam,  
_

_I hope this bird finds you well. I don't quite have the same relationship with them as my mother, but they've done well enough for me in the past. Did you know this is how I sent letters to Killian? Well, one of the ways, at least. You were too busy captaining or doing whatever you do on your ship to notice. Considering you’re more or less doing the same tasks now, I hope you notice this bird, but since I tried to leave explicit instructions for it to fly to you and not Killian, maybe you’ll be more aware of its presence._

_I don’t know how much time has passed between our last conversation and you receiving this letter, so I’ll let you know now, it has only been a day for me. I imagine it will be much longer for you. Sometimes a week would pass before Killian would receive a bird, though I wonder if that had to do more with it getting lost than the distance between me and him._

_Anyway, back to the point. During our courtship, Killian and I would exchange letters. It was very nice to hear from him while he was away. Those letters let me know he was safe, and I heard what day-to-day life was like on a ship. Although I traveled by sea many times before, I think you would agree that sailing would be very different as a Naval officer than as a passenger. In short, those letters let me know that he was okay, and vice-versa for Killian, as well._

_So, Liam Jones, that is my plan. I’m writing to let you know Killian is okay. But since he told me you had barely spoken since the event in the castle, so I will go ahead and fill you in on what you missed, since he is as stubborn as you. Indeed, it must be a family trait!  
  
I’m sure you’ve heard he went on a tour to many port cities in the town. He seemingly enjoyed that mission, but he thought it was a little fake. However, since he’s to be my husband, and since I am to be queen, this is important work for him. He’s been going through various lessons to learn the names of our allied kingdoms and their leaders. My brother has been quite helpful with that, as well. Admittedly, I don’t believe Mother and Father appreciate the asides we make to help Killian remember. Lest this_note _be apprehended by_ someone _not you, I won’t include the nicknames should they be considered offensive. (Note: they are.)_

_Your brother is dreadful at hunting. I’m blaming this on you since you practically raised him. Not that it’s necessarily your fault. You grew up on the sea. I imagine if we took our guests fishing, Killian would be a shining example of how to do things correctly. But, alas, he’s terribly unimpressive at using a spear or arrows. Should you ever speak to him, tease him about it, okay? Few things are more fun than teasing one’s siblings! Besides, I think Killian needed the blow to his ego.  
  
Anyway, just a few short months until the wedding. I do so hope you can make it. Not because I want to see_you, _because I think you and I are on the same page about our feelings for one another, but for Killian. Killian loves you, and I love him. That’s why I am writing to you_ now, _and will continue to do so until the two of you drop this stupid feud and apologize. I’m not going anywhere, Liam. That you have to accept. But your brother is still here, and_ he’s _family. My family always believed in finding one another, so I hope you can find your way back to us._

_Until then, I hope you appreciate these letters, and if you don’t, I hope you get good at ignoring them. Because here’s the thing, Liam, I won’t stop._

_-Emma_

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh. I can't believe this is almost over. Thank your for reading my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk . Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan , and @just-be-magnificent . 
> 
> Also, heads up, this chapter gets a bit steamy.

When Killian found Emma, she was in the library, she was furiously writing on a piece of parchment. She was startled when she saw him, and Killian assumed she was so far into her own work that she hadn't realized that someone would interrupt her. 

"What are you writing?" he asked when  he approached her, curious about what project could have her so deep in thought. 

"Ah, just general correspondence,  a bunch of boring princess stuff that's all," she replied, rolling the parchment closed. For a moment, Killian believed she was evading his question, but he shook off the thought. She had no reason to lie to him. 

Emma pushed herself from her seated position at the desk and crossed over to meet him. She greeted him with a distracting kiss, one that certainly wasn't chaste and set his blood aflame, but pulled back all too quickly. He hadn't had her since the night before their engagement ball, and his body yearned for her. 

"How was the boring Navy meeting?" Emma asked, cooling his ardor.

"Honestly, not boring after all," he replied. He had been pulled into more and more meetings revolving around the Navy. At first, Killian was annoyed by the whole thing, as it was keeping him further from the ship. But he found the information increasingly interesting. Besides, Killian actually felt important, like his voice mattered, and much to his surprise, he was actually being listened to. Admiral Woodhull had even complimented his logic a few times about the best way to handle pirates that were pillaging the Southern coast. "I think they find me useful."

"Well, of course they would. You are useful," Emma wrapped her arms around his neck, and Killian was once again distracted by his proximity. She smelled of the rose-scented soaps she favored, the same ones that Killian found  intoxicating. "Of course, my uses for you are quite different from the Navy's. Or so I hope."

Heat rushed south to his groin as he absorbed her words, her voice thick with innuendo. He could feel her nails toying with the nape of his neck, and the warm press of her body against his own. He wanted her, and by the way she was flirting with him, she wanted him as well. 

Against his better judgment, Killian surged forward, kissing her deeply. Emma moaned in delight, happy with this development, and he took the opportunity to explore her mouth, their tongues tangling. He maneuvered her backwards -- or or she him, he wasn't quite sure -- until the backs of her thighs hit the desk. 

"Up," he requested, lifting her onto the flat surface. She complied easily, spreading her legs to accommodate him. He trailed his hands over her calves, toying with her stockings as he pushed up the skirts of her dress. 

A voice in the back of Killian's head warned him that they should stop, that they shouldn't proceed further. They weren't supposed to even be alone together for extended periods of time, he'd only managed this time together because his meeting had ended early. But then Emma placed open-mouthed kisses along his neck, nipping at his pulse point causing his mind to go blank.

He'd dreamed of her the night before, taking her like this, her legs wrapped around his hips just so as he thrust into her furiously. He'd woken sweaty and straining, and he had taken himself in hand to relieve the tension. Little good it did for him, considering how hot his blood was burning. 

They fucked here before, a hurried affair the result of too long without one another. Later, she'd complained about the bruises left on her back from the way he'd pressed her against the bookcases. They'd been too eager back then to contemplate using the desk, but is, perhaps...

Emma's hands were skating down his chest, dangerously close to where he was hard and aching for her, when the doors to the library flung open.

"Hey, Emma, I--"

"Leo! Have you ever heard to knocking?"

Emma’s brother stood agape, his cheeks turning a furious shade of red as he took in the scene. Killian sighed, pulling away from Emma to allow her to slide off the desk and right her clothing. Killian, in turn, moved directly behind the desk, sitting down to hide the evidence of his arousal.

“To be fair,” Leo began, finally finding his voice, “I didn’t expect you both to be here doing, um, _that_.” Leo kept his eyes averted, staring intently at a spot somewhere near the back corner of the room. “Anyway, well, um, Emma, I came to see if you wanted to go for a ride later, but I guess not _sinceyou’reoccupied.”_

Leo’s voice raised an octave with each word, with the final few coming out like a tiny squeak. Killian would have found the whole thing amusing had he not been on the receiving end of being interrupted. Killian crossed his arms over his chest, and gave Leo his best glare. He truly did admire Emma’s brother – he was the one who made him most welcome in the family – but Killian did not admire his presence now.

“Maybe later, Leo,” Emma replied.  
  
_Much later,_ Killian wanted to add, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t sure if any additional commentary would make the situation worse or better, and he decided better to play things safe than sorry. Furthermore, it allowed him to prove that yes, he could still hold his tongue. Instead, he continued to glare at Leo in the hope that it would encourage him to leave.

He did not.

“Right, well, anyway. If you’re going to continue what you were doing, then maybe you should do it elsewhere. You know, not in a place anyone could walk in and see you,” Leo added, continuing very much to not look at the two of them. Killian thought that he really should, if only to get the hint that he should go. He doesn’t. “Because though I may be fine with you consummating your relationship, others aren’t. And it’s really rude to do what you were doing where other people do things like read or write letters. I don’t think I want to use that desk again.”

“We haven’t had sex on the desk, Leo,” Emma said. She sounded how Killian felt: deeply annoyed by the situation. But she was also being patient with her brother, which was an admirable trait. She was much better than he in most regards, and this was just another example.  

“We haven’t had much sex anywhere,” Killian mumbled, though he doubted Leo could hear him. Emma did, and she glanced back at him, mouthing “stop”.

“Right, well, don’t,” Leo replied. He swayed awkwardly back and forth. “I’m about to leave, I promise, but because I am a good person who doesn’t tattle about what you were doing in here, I thought you should know that Father is planning to talk to you today, Killian. Anyway, I’m going to go very far away now. Bye.”

And then he was gone, just as Killian had wanted. But instead of feeling relieved, a wave of dread washed over him. Emma’s father wanted to speak to him. No, he didn’t simply want to speak to him, he _planned_ to, which meant he had thought about what he wanted to say. What exactly he wanted to discuss, Killian did not know.

It was no secret that Emma’s father wasn’t fond of him. His speech at the ball had been pretty words meant to placate the guests. He truly didn’t feel that way about Killian. Their relationship had mellowed since their first conversation, but Killian doubted things could have gotten worse after the king had tried to buy him in an attempt to sever his and Emma’s relationship. Then, there was the morning of the ball when Killian had been caught sneaking from Emma’s room. He supposed he had given the king no reason to like him. Killian knew how the king saw him – the man who stole his daughter’s virtue after running away with her in the dark of the night.

Killian wanted little more than for the king to see him as someone worthy of Emma. A disastrous relationship with the king would weigh heavily on his marriage with Emma. It already was weighing heavily on them. If they wanted their marriage to be a success, he’d need to find a way to make peace with her father. ~~.~~ He wanted to be perceived as a man of honor, but he didn’t know how. Or if the king would even be amenable.

“Hey, you disappeared inside your head.” Emma’s voice pulled him from his reverie. She walked back around the desk, and then moved into his lap. His desire had rapidly cooled, the news that her father was planning to seek him out overwhelming him. “I think it would make my father happy to know how much the thought of speaking to him scares you.”

“I’m not scared, love,” he replied. He wasn’t. He wasn’t afraid of the king. He’d stood up to him many times before, and would do it again. “I just am worried our encounter won’t go well.”

“He’s not going to run you through with a sword, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You act like he hasn’t tried before.”

“And if he tries again, he will have to answer to me.”

That was another reason why Killian’s relationship with the king worried him. Emma’s relationship with her father had taken a turn for the worse as a result. Although her anger at his behavior the day their relationship came to light have cooled considerably, their relationship was still fraught with tension. He knew how it felt to lose a family member due to estrangement, and Killian worried if his relationship with the king soured even further, Emma’s would do the same. He didn’t want that for her.

He moved to kiss her, his lips moving against hers chastely. She seemed to understand that her stolen moment was now lost, and she kissed him back just as sweetly, neither moving to once again escalate things. _Soon_ , he told himself, repeating the mantra that he’d made his own since they planned to fake an engagement.

“Mmm…when will we be married again?” Emma asked, closing her eyes and licking her lips as if to get one final taste of it.

“Not soon enough, my love.”   
  
He was counting down the days until they could be finished with this whole charade, when he could call her his wife aloud, when he could be alone with her and not have to worry about being caught or lectured.

Emma pressed one more kiss to his lips before extricating herself from his lap. He immediately felt the loss of her presence, but it was probably for the best. It was just as likely that someone would once again stumble upon them, and knowing his rotten luck, it would be her father seeking him out for a “talk”. Gods above, their second wedding couldn’t get here soon enough.

“Things are going to be fine with my father,” Emma assured him, grabbing his hand for reassurance. She squeezed it. “I know you don’t believe it, but he is going to love you eventually.”

“Oh really?” he quirked a brow, amused by her optimism. “And why is that?”

“Because I love you,” she told him simply, and gods, he wanted nothing more than to believe her.   
  
If only he could have her faith.

-/-

It was no secret that David had incubated a deep-seated resentment of Killian Jones in the near two months since the man upended the life of himself and his family. How could he not? David barely knew the then-lieutenant’s name, and the next thing he knew, the man was his son-in-law. ~~And~~ Emma, being the strong-willed woman he and Snow had raised her to be, had made it clear who she would choose between them and her now husband should they force the issue – which meant that David had unfortunately grown quite accustomed to Killian Jones’ presence in his life. 

He would be lying if he denied that some small part of him had hoped the man’s relationship with Emma dissolved in some natural way in the period between coming to a decision about what to do with their relationship and the wedding – second wedding. He didn’t trust someone who would steal away with his daughter in the dead of night. Why should he?

But, it was a few weeks past the announcement of Emma and Killian’s “engagement”, and the couple seemed just as devoted as the morning they returned to the castle. In fact, watching his daughter and her _husband_ together had been a reassuring sight. He made her laugh and smile and everything in-between. Killian looked at Emma like a man in love. He looked at her in a way that David always hoped a man would.

And it wasn’t just Emma that was fond of the new Captain. From what he could tell, the man was astonishingly well-liked. Leo had taken to him quickly, and David could tell it was not just for Emma’s benefit. Snow also seemed to compliment him more, and even Admiral Woodhull – who had practically threatened to hang the man out of embarrassment – had begun to grudgingly compliment his input to strategy meetings.

“Valuable,” that’s the word Woodhull had last used to describe Killian.

Which was why David struggled with his complicated feelings toward Killian Jones. There seemed to be a number of reasons to admire him, but David kept circling back to their first meeting, to the moment he realized Emma had run away with someone and not told him.

It was Snow who called him out on it. “You of all people should know how wrong first impressions can be. Or do you fall in love with every bandit that crosses your path?

That had forced David to reconsider his feelings. He’d wanted to argue that this was different. This situation certainly felt different. It was Emma’s life and happiness he was worried about, and that was true.

“I thought you said you were going to trust our daughter,” Snow had admonished him, to which he replied that he was. 

“We’re letting them stay together, aren’t we?” he had asked in response, knowing that was no real allowance about it. He had only agreed to it because he knew it would keep Emma closer, and he didn’t desire to drive a wedge between them anymore than already exited.

“There’s a difference between letting things happen and accepting them,” Snow had reminded him. “Think about your speech at the ball. Is there any reason why those words can’t someday be the truth?”

His conversation with Snow weighed heavily upon him. He would lay awake at night turning over her words, think them over whenever he’d see Emma and Killian walking in the garden, his daughter looking incandescently happy. It was why one morning he decided that he would have a talk with Killian, man-to-man, one that was very different than their first.

He mentioned it offhand to Leo. It was Leo who was most likely to know the comings and goings of the Captain. He spent more time at the castle these days, sitting in on council, Naval strategy meetings, or simply spending time with Emma and occasionally Leo. David had little interaction with the man with the exception of council meetings, and even then, he disappeared shortly after, being tugged away by Emma or his son. So, it was Leo whom he sent to set up a time with Killian.

He’d considered finding Emma and talking to her about it, but he feared that broaching the topic would anger her. Their relationship was already at a precarious point. She resented him for how he treated Killian the day after the elopement, as well as the night he caught the man sneaking from her room. He felt as if he was walking on eggshells around her. It made him sad. Once, he and Emma had been thick as thieves, and without him noticing she had become her own woman and built her own life.  He worried anything further would disrupt the delicate balance that they had currently – which was also why he was willing to talk more to Jones. If he could find some middle ground with Emma’s husband, then hopefully, maybe, she would come around more to him. She was respectful, but there was a layer of ice where there had once been warmth. 

In short, David wanted his daughter back and if had to mend his relationship with her husband to do it, then so be it.

It was when Leo had enticed Emma away with a ride around the grounds – much later than David had originally hoped, something about her being busy – that he found the opportunity to speak to his son-in-law. They met at the stables. Killian had escorted Emma down, and before she climbed onto her horse, she made a point of kissing him far too deeply that a woman should in front of her father. But then she was off, his two children riding away leaving him with a blushing Captain.

“I didn’t ask her to do that, just so you know,” Killian said once Emma was out of earshot. David believed him. Killian had looked quite shocked when Emma kissed him, but he didn’t push her away either, forcing David and Leo to avert their eyes. Now that Emma and Leo were gone, he and Killian were still standing together uncomfortably. “Leo said you wanted to talk.”

“I did,” David replied. There was no use delaying it. “Take a walk with me?”

“Lead away.”

They walked in silence for a while, past the docks and further from the castle. David found comfort in being outside, enjoyed the smell of fresh air and the freeing feeling that came from not being surrounded by four solid, stone walls. He attributed it to his life as a shepherd that preceded his one as a king. He wondered if Killian might feel the same, but he dared not ask. Not yet.

It was Killian who spoke first, his voice light as he mused aloud, “Well, both Emma and Leo know you’re with me, so I imagine you’re not bringing me out this way to kill me.”

“I’m not going to kill you.” David knew he should feel insulted by Killian’s assertion, and he felt the pinpricks of annoyance under his skin, but –

“Can you blame me for thinking so?”

“I suppose not,” David replied. Realizing it was time to cut to the chase, he began, “You and I didn’t meet under the best circumstances." 

“Technically, we met first at a ball,” Killian corrected. He was smirking we he said it, and David wondered if it was compulsive for the man to show some cheek. “But the second time we met, no, it wasn’t the best. I recall you threw me in the dungeons.”

“After I discovered you ran away with my daughter.”

“An event of which she was a willing and consenting party.”

“Be that as it may, it’s not how a man wants to truly meet the person his daughter intends to spend the rest of her life with,” David said, grinding out the words as he attempted to reign in his frustration with his daughter’s husband. He was trying. This was for Emma.

“No, I suppose not.” David tried not to let his surprise show with Killian agreed. He failed when he heard Killian’s next question. “How would you have preferred to meet me?”

David was thrown, naturally, but he did his best to recover. Killian eyed him carefully, waiting for an answer. David thought he saw uncertainty in the other man’s eyes. 

“For one, you would have made your intentions clear from the start,” David began. He’d had many dreams for Emma, and had envisioned the day that the man whom she’d eventually marry would come to him and Snow. David had liked to think that he would have recognized the man as his daughter’s True Love instantly. He’d been cheated of that. “Don’t misunderstand me. Emma is her own woman, so I believe you would have spoken to her first. But nothing would have been kept a secret between the two of you. Your courting would have been supervised. You would have asked me for her hand. You would have –“

“Done everything opposite of what I did,” Killian finished for him. There was no hint of regret in the other man’s voice. Maybe some resignation.  “I apologize for going behind your family’s back. I recognize that it was bad form, but please believe me when I say everything I did was out of my love of Emma. You have to believe me.”

Did he? That was the question with which David struggled most. Killian certainly sounded genuine, and he also appeared so in the way he carried himself. There were so many things that David didn’t know, but today he was going to try to understand.

“How did things come about with Emma?” he asked.

“What?” Killian replied, bewildered by the request. “I know you’ve heard the tale.”

Oh, he had. David had made Emma explain it to them in the first few days after she’d returned a bride. He knew about the dance, the first secret letters, how their relationship had unfolded into something much larger than either could handle before deciding they needed to run away and marry. David knew all of that. But it was one thing to hear it from Emma, and another from Killian. It was also a different matter entirely to tell when one wasn’t under emotional duress as those first few days had been. 

Because of that, David said to Killian, “Humor me.”

He watched as the other man scratched behind his ear nervously. “We met at a ball. It was last winter. There was snow outside, and I recall it being strange at just how warm the ballroom was. I remember wanting it to last forever because I was sailing out the next afternoon, and gods, sailing in the winter is hardly enjoyable…” 

David listened quietly as Killian talked. He continued to set the scene, describing the decorations, the music, and even the food. David wanted him to get on with his story. It was all extraneous details as far as he was concerned, but he didn’t rush the other man along. He was willing to be patient.”

“…never met royalty before. To be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it. You family had sterling reputations, but you were still the type to throw lavish balls. It was all staging anyway. I assumed that you would forget my name shortly after meeting me, _which you did_.”

“Is this really the place to bring that up?”

“Would you believe me if I said there was a point?” Killian quirked his brow in a challenge. “As I was saying, I wasn’t expecting much from the night. I enjoyed the warmth and the food, and I was fond of dancing. But it was just meant to be a fun evening. Nothing more.”

“And?” David asked, despite know where this was going.

“I danced with _her_.” It was the way that Killian breathed “her” that made David’s heart stutter. Killian spoke with a reverence that startled him. “And after I went home that night, I knew I had to see her again. So, I ensured I would.”

“So how did you ensure _that_?” David raised a brow. This was part of the story he hadn’t heard yet. Emma had glossed over the specifics of how their courtship had come to be, highlighting only that it had. He was plagued by curiosity, and wondered more and more about this man who his daughter loved, the man who with one dance knew he wanted to see her again.

“I wrote to her. I asked her to meet me when I returned, and that I would send her another letter then. I honestly didn’t believe she would respond. Truly. But then I was sailing and a bird surprised me with a note. I’m sure you can imagine my shock to realize it was from her. That bird thing is really something to behold, isn’t it?” 

“She gets it from her mother,” David replied with a chuckle. Snow’s talents with birds, too, had astounded him. He could only envision Killian’s surprise to learn Emma held similar sway over the creatures. 

“Yes, well, she told me she had been thinking of me, as well, and that she would meet me,” Killian described. The awkwardness had long since passed, and he had come more into himself as he spoke, awe evident in his voice. “And then her letter said that there was no reason we couldn’t communicate while I was away. You should have seen me, trying to hide some of her birds in my quarters. I was worried Liam was convinced I was half-mad.” 

Killian had started to laugh, but it died at the mention of his brother. David wondered how things were with Killian’s brother, but did not pursue that line of thought. Instead, he focused back on the story Killian was weaving.

“We wrote about everything. Our dreams, our fears. It was nice to have someone on the outside to talk to. I wasn’t royalty, and she wasn’t a sailor. We could write freely to one another in a way that we could do with no other. And, well, quickly I grew from being enchanted with her to falling in love with her.”

“And she you.”

“Aye.” Killian looked bashful when he responded, almost as if he couldn’t believe that Emma would actually love him. And maybe he did feel that way. David had no way of reading his mind. But…it was endearing. In a surprise to David, Killian turned to him suddenly. “You have to understand it. I would do anything for her. I would follow her anywhere, if she asked me, to the end of the world or time itself.”

There was an earnestness in Killian Jones’ voice, one that David had only dreamed of. It was as if twenty years of hopes and dreams had washed upon him. He understood what it was like to long for someone to understand you, to have the ability to speak freely without fear. It was hearing someone who spoke of Emma as he did Snow. He might not be ready to completely accept Killian or Emma’s marriage, but David knew one thing – the man truly loved his daughter.

“Good.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two more chapters left! The theme of this chapter is "brotherly love". Thank you for reading my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of @wexyuk . Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, @piratesrumforswan , and @just-be-magnificent .

"It's going to be fine, Emma."

"I know that," she replied, pressing her lips together tightly. Her father and Killian's conversation, whatever it was about, would go well. 

She hoped.

Her father and her husband hadn't actually spent time alone one-on-one since the wedding. That was almost by design, a concerted effort on her part to prevent any situations resembling the moment she stumbled upon them at the castle, her father attempting to buy off Killian, encouraging him to leave her. Her actions may be cowardly on her part, but she believed them necessary to ensure her happiness through the wedding.

The whole situation was exhausting. Between secretly attempting to mend Liam's relationship with Killian, skirting around her own father's lack of approval, and planning the entire second wedding, Emma had little time to think.

"Isn't this relaxing?" Leo had asked when they first took off on their ride, shortly after her father and Killian had disappeared from view. Relaxing had been one word for it, though she quickly came to believe that Leo had an ulterior motive for her keeping her away, no matter how much he denied it. "Father was making use of my plans. I am not a pawn!"

Whatever.

But Emma had to admit that eventually she began to enjoy their ride around the grounds, the wind whipping around her hair when she encouraged her horse into a particularly fast gallop. She tried to ignore the smug expression of Leo's face, the one that said "I told you so" without the accompanying words.

"We should still do this after the wedding, you and I," Leo commented when they took a break at a nearby pond to allow their horses to have a drink. 

"Why wouldn't we?" Emma asked as they relaxed under the shade of the tree. She and Killian were already married, and she doubted much would change after their second wedding. In fact, she was looking forward to when things became easier. But then Emma noted her brother's sheepish expression. "Leo, are you worried we won't spend time together after Killian and I get through this mess?"

"I mean, you won't be pretending to be properly courting then. You'll have more time to defile libraries or whatever else the two of you do for fun," he replied sheepishly, blushing at the word defiling. "Though, I'd appreciate it if you avoided the former. I can only be so traumatized."

Emma walked over to her brother and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Hey, no one is going to stand between you and me, okay? You're my brother, forever and always. Me being married doesn't change that."

"You didn't promise about avoiding library situations."

"I don't intend to make promises I can't keep," she replied, earning a rather melodramatic groan from her brother. Pulling away, she placed her hands on his shoulders and looked up at him. "There's nothing to worry about, Leo.   You won't disappear from my life when you finally get married, so why would it be any different for me?"

"I will have to find someone to marry me first. Or even look my way."

"And you will," Emma told him, no hint of uncertainty in her voice. "And then you'll be the one defiling the library."

"Okay, sure, payback." Leo rolled his eyes dramatically.

Emma nudged his shoulder. "Look at it this way, since my marriage is mired in scandal, when you meet someone, it will be another blip on the radar."

"I think you eloping is an entirely different scandal than me bringing home a man."

Emma thought her conversation before her engagement ball, the sneer in Alexandra's voice when she called her parents progressive. But then she recalled the night a year ago when Leo had made his tearful confession after being caught with a knight, and the way their parents had embraced him. "Be that as it may, when it comes to Mother and Papa, as long as you don't elope in the dead of night, they'll be elated. Everyone else can go stuff themselves for what I care."

"Still have to find someone."

"You will," she assured him. His suitor pool may be smaller considering all things, but that didn't matter. There was a True Love for everyone. Killian was proof of that for her. Then she remembered something. "Maybe Killian can introduce you to a few Navy men. He told me he knows plenty of honorable men who have interests similar to yours."

Killian hadn't actually known of Leo's preferences when they had married. Though the information had spread like wildfire among the royal families -- it was a delicious bit of gossip to many -- it hadn't permeated to the masses. She'd used it to explain why she couldn't just abdicate her position as heir to marry him. If she did, life would be much more difficult for Leo. He'd be expected to marry a proper wife and produce heirs. She had no intention of dooming her brother's chance at love for hers. Killian had taken it all in stride, though. Apparently, that sort of thing was common among sailors.

"Can you imagine everyone's faces, the two of us marrying sailors?" 

"It could be worse. You could have the tastes of Philip and marry Princess Alexandra."

Emma and Leo exchanged glances before bursting into a wave of laughter. She'd told him of Alexandra's snide remarks - leaving off the dig at her parents acceptance of him. He hadn't been surprised, of course, as Alexandra had always been a point of mockery between them. 

"Thank the gods you're having the wedding before she's due. I imagine she'd try to have the baby at the ceremony just to upstage you."

"I would almost welcome it, to be honest." Her original wedding had been enough for Emma. She was dreading the pomp and circumstance of the second one. She was already up her eyebrows in plans. At the mention of the wedding, Emma grimaced when she remembered her later plans. "We should head back. I'll need to clean up before I speak with mother about place settings."

Leo mirrored her expression. "Ugh. Maybe I don't want to marry someone."

"Oh, you will," Emma replied as she once again mounted her horse. She cast a teasing look over her shoulder to her brother. "Then you'll be able to defile the library without judgment."

And then she was off, racing back through the meadows. She heard a holler, and knew Leo was following behind her. 

In all honesty, she was eager to get back. She wanted to see just how Killian's conversation with her father was progressing, and run interference if things were turning south as she feared. 

They weren't at the stables when she returned, and as she passed over the  reins of her horse to a stable boy, she asked him, "Do you know where my father and my hus-- _fiancé_ disappeared to?"

The stable boy blushed and responded with a dip in of his chin, "I heard that they progressed to the training grounds, Your Highness."

The color drained from Emma's face at his response. The training grounds! The last time her father and Killian had gone there, it was after Killian had been caught sneaking from her room. What had occurred during their talk that would make them choose to fight?

Emma raced toward the training grounds. She was sure she made quite the sight running as she was. As she neared the training grounds she heard the clanging of swords. Despite being one to channel her emotions into weaponry, she would never take it out on the wrong person. What the hell was wrong with them? 

When she heard a peal of laughter ring out, Emma was even more confused. 

Finally, she approached the training area, panting heavily from her exertions, and watched as her father and Killian sparred...happily?

"You will have to tell me how you learned that -- Emma, love, are you okay?" Killian dropped his sword and jogged over to her. "You're all red."

"I thought...I thought a run would do me good," she replied, huffing out a response. She didn't want them to know she had run there because of them. "Why are you out here."

It was her father who answered. "Well, Killian and I got to talking about swordplay, and thought we'd compare techniques. He's a bit flashy, but I believe he will do well in a pinch."

Her father winked -- actually winked! -- at Killian. Emma watched as her husband blushed at her father's compliment, scratching at his ear nervously. They were...bonding? 

Emma knew she should be happy, and on some level she was, but more than anything she felt confused. Just what had they talked about to get to this point? She made a mental note to interrogate Killian about it later. 

"Where's your brother?" her father asked suddenly, craning his neck around.

"Oh, I raced him back. He didn't follow me here though," Emma replied. Knowing Leo, however..."He probably went to the kitchens."

"Well, let's see if we can find him there. I'm famished," her father said. "I'm sure we can convince Remy to give us something. Killian, would you join us?"

Killian smiled widely, genuinely. "Sure."

And that was how Emma, Killian, and her father found themselves walking back to the kitchens, a huge weight lifted from all their shoulders.

_Maybe_ , Emma thought, _just maybe, things are looking up._

-/-

 

_Liam,_

_You'll be happy to know that your brother is bonding with my father. I really don't know what prompted it all. Killian refuses to tell me, saying some things need to be between men. So, rest assured, you're not the only one he doesn't tell everything to!_  

_They like to spar together with swords. It's quite an amusing sight, because Papa thinks he's as spry as he was when younger, but that clearly isn't the case. Don't tell Papa I told him this, but I'm pretty sure Killian has let him win a few times. Honestly, I'm a bit proud of your bother. You know how competitive he can be._

_Maybe when you return, you can join your brother and my father. Who knows? Maybe I'll even spar you!_

_-Emma_

 

\--

 

_Liam,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. My past two letters have gone unanswered. I'm starting to worry my birds are getting lost, because truly it would be bad form to not respond to a letter from family, let alone your princess!_

_I'm pretty sure you remember Remy, my family's chef. I think he's plotting to kill Killian. Not seriously, mind you, but I also wouldn't be surprised if Killian finds poison in his next bowl of soup. You see, Remy has discovered Killian's deepest secret -- his aversion to chocolate. While Remy is certainly talented enough to make any non-chocolate dessert he sees fit, he finds the fact that Killian doesn't like it an affront to the culinary arts._

_Frankly, I don't blame him. Chocolate is a gift from the gods as far as I’m concerned. But Killian hates it, and I suppose it is proof that no man can be perfect. Killian told me that you like chocolate, so I suppose it isn't an inherited fault. Then again, I know nothing of your mother and father, so I can't accurately say. Killian doesn't speak of either much, and I sense he doesn't wish for me to pry._

_Do you have any stories of your parents? Did they like chocolate? I would love to talk to you about them sometime. I know Killian spent little time with both, but they helped shape him a tiny bit, and that's important. You shaped him most, that much is obvious, so a talk with you is definitely in order. I would very much appreciate it. Write back to me so we can schedule a time when you return._

_-Emma_

_PS-Killian is still terrible at hunting. We've tried to teach him, but he's comically bad. You would love to see it._

 

\--

 

_Liam,_

_I understand it, you know, how difficult it is to forgive and forget. I'm still angry with my father. He and Killian have seemingly patched things up, but I still resent him a little. I can't get it out of my head that he imprisoned you both, and how he'd tried to pay off Killian. I suppose you feel the same way toward me._

_But here's the thing: no matter how angry I am at my father, I still talk to him. We have meals together. We try to be a family, no matter how hurt we are._

_Because I admit it, okay? We hurt you. We hurt my parents. And you're hurting Killian and I. I guess what I am trying to say is that we don't need a circle of hurting one another._

_So, this is me apologizing. I'm sorry, Liam._

_-Emma_

 

\--

 

_Liam,_

_Finally, a letter I can deliver to you via courier and not a bird! Of course, that means that you are now in port, and have been for a few days._

_My wedding to your brother is fast approaching. I am up to my neck in gifts and planning, finalizing the floral selections and the colors of curtains. It's driving me mad. Honestly, I would be if it wasn't for Killian. He's the calming force in the eye of the hurricane. I'm pretty sure I ruined that metaphor, but you understand, don't you?_

_Killian is an exceptional man. Notwithstanding the hideous white jacket our tailor tried to fit him in, he's handled the wedding planning quite well. And yet, he's devastated that his brother isn't here with him. (Or keeping him from also going insane, as it were.)_

_Why aren't you here? You haven't sent a letter to either me or him. You haven't even spoken to him since returning. As a sister of a younger brother, I couldn't imagine going so long without even reaching it to Leo. Why can't you do the same._

_I've attached the invitation to the wedding. You are always welcome. Your family misses you._

_-Emma_

 

The letters sat on a neat pile on his desk. There were more, tiny notes revealing bits of information about Killian's progress in winning over the council ("Grumpy will forever loathe him, I'm afraid, but Sneezy is strangely fond of him.") to her response to stories Killian regaled her with ("Is it true you were nearly capsized by a kraken? What was that like?") Each remained unanswered, but not ignored. Liam had read through them countless times, during the long nights at sea when sleep wouldn't claim him or whenever he was feeling particularly desperate for information regarding his brother.

He’d never been separated from Killian for so long, by choice or by circumstance. They'd always sailed together, through good and bad. 

And then everything changed, and Liam was alone. But he couldn't bring himself to respond, wasn't sure if wanted to or if the words would spring forth even if he tried. Regardless of it all, he was fiercely reminded that Emma was the one sending him letters, not Killian. 

Killian still hadn't written to him, hadn't bothered to reach out at all. Who is to say that his brother even wanted to mend their tattered relationship? Maybe Killian was forever lost to him, just as their parents had been. 

It was that thought that drove Liam to a tavern that night, nursing his broken heart with ale. He didn't often drink, but he had leave, and felt he deserved some distraction. It was better than sitting home alone with his thoughts. 

He sat in the corner with his ale. He wasn't in the mood for conversation, but he enjoyed watching the crowd. There were men gambling and woman wooing, the tavern was raucous with energy. Conversations mingled in the air, sentences blending together and losing their meaning and context.  

"--a pack of wild wolves tearing men--"

"--another girl! Seven daughters and not one--"

"Three bears, I tell ya!"

Liam found himself hiding his smile behind his ale. Yes, this was very much what he needed on a night like this...

...which was why not a moment later a hooded figure joined him at his table. 

"Listen, mate, I don't--" Liam's voice trailed off, however, once the man lowered his hood and put his finger to his lips.

"Shhh...let's not draw attention." Liam could only nod, shocked to find King David sitting across from him. "So, Liam, how have things been since we last talked?"  



	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the penultimate chapter y'all! Thank you for reading my contribution to the @captainswanbigbang This story wouldn't be half as readable without the lovely beta work of wexyuk . Special shoutout to my artists who also served as secondary readers, piratesrumforswan , and just-be-magnificent .

Killian was getting married soon.

He felt surprisingly nervous about the ceremony, especially since he had already married the princess. At the very least, he didn't have to worry about Emma not meeting him at the end of the aisle as he did the first night. She would be there, wearing a dress she wouldn't let him see, his beautiful bride. It was the fact that this performance would be for her family and peers that worried him. What if he did something wrong, someone said something? Would he disappoint her family?

Now that he'd become more or less accepted the royal family, he was terrified he'd do something to mess it up. Silver's old taunts haunted him at moments like this, causing him to doubt himself. Could he be the man that Emma's parents hoped he would be? He truly loved Emma. He would die for her. But sometimes love wasn't enough. 

He was tempted to sneak up to the castle to seek Emma out. It wouldn’t have been the first time he had done it. But something kept him rooted at the place he had called “home” for the past few months, ever since he had become Captain and his wife’s family had decided he needed someplace to live other than with his brother.

Liam had taken that as a slight, as he had everything since the morning after Killian and Emma had eloped. Then again, Liam took everything as a slight. Killian was perceptive enough to notice that he seemingly gained everything – a title, security, love – while Liam had lost everything. He recognized that the situation was unfair, but Killian couldn’t change the person he fell in love with.  Liam expected Killian to apologize for that, which wasn’t something he was willing to do.

As such, he kept his distance. He wanted to let Liam come to him, partially out of spite, but also because he believed his brother needed space.

Which left him waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting still, with no word from his brother. It hurt, and Killian had spent many a late night turning over their previous conversations, wondering if he could have done or said something differently. Maybe if he’d argued harder against Admiral Woodhull, maybe if…

Well, there was no point in debating maybes and what-ifs, was there?

What’s done was done. He couldn’t change the past. Liam would come around sometime. He had to. Killian didn’t want to entertain any other option. He already felt a profound sense of loss at the idea that his brother likely wouldn’t even attend his public ceremony with Emma.

It was thoughts of the ceremony that had Killian longing for Liam’s guidance. Liam would also have the right words, just as he did when they were youths under the command (ownership) of Silver. He would often remind Killian that Silver was wrong, that they would be heroes someday. Killian wasn’t sure where he measured as a hero, but he was marrying a princess. If only Silver could see him now!

If only Liam could see him now.

Punching his pillow – it was nowhere near as soft as the ones Emma kept in her bed – he continued to fight a losing battle with sleep. He closed his eyes, wishing he could be on his ship. It was easier for him to fall asleep on the sea than on land, but that wasn’t an option either. In short, Killian Jones was marooned. Eventually, his body would give way to exhaustion, but he hated that it would come to that.

And when Killian miraculously felt sleep finally tugging at the corners of his consciousness, he was startled further awake by a loud knocking on the door. He wondered briefly if he had imagined it – had sleep finally caught him – but the knocking occurred once more, this time accompanied by the familiar voice of Emma’s father.

“Killian, open up!”

Killian flung himself from the bed, nothing bothering to change his clothes as he hurried toward the door. The hour was late, and Emma’s father was calling for him. Something had to be wrong. His mind flashed to Emma, and he worried that she was hurt. Maybe her parents had been correct in their fears, and Regina had returned to rip away their happiness.

But when Killian opened the door, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, he was shocked to see not just Emma’s father, but his brother, as well.

“Liam,” he breathed, not quite sure he could trust his eyes. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Liam in too long, but he was standing there before him. Truly, he had to be dreaming. But he wasn’t. Liam was standing there with Emma’s father, and Killian was at a loss to what was occurring. “What…is something wrong?”

“Clearly, because the two of you have been at odds for much too long,” Emma’s father answered, and Killian could detect a soft slur in the king’s voice. Had he been drinking? “Now, I expect you two to talk and work out whatever is going on. My daughter’s wedding is in a few days, and I expect our family to all be together. That’s an order from your king, gentlemen.”

Killian gaped at the king. He wasn’t sure he believed the king’s words, but he sounded like he was speaking the truth. Knowing they couldn’t have the conversation in the doorway, he stood aside and beckoned them in. The king refused despite Killian’s protests, and announced he would be heading back to the castle.

“Do work things out,” he said before going, leaving Killian dumbfounded and Liam somewhat surly.

They stood together in the tiny room, both silent. Killian didn’t know what to say, and clearly neither did Liam. Realizing that he would have to be the one to make the first move, Killian gestured to the table. “Would you like to sit?”

Liam was quiet, but went anyway, taking a seat at the table. Killian sat opposite him, and drummed his fingers impatiently on the wood. He didn’t intend to do _all_ of the talking. Honestly, he was a little peeved at the whole ordeal. Shouldn’t Emma’s father have seen it fit to warn him?

Apparently not.

But Killian knew better than to dwell on the matter, especially since Liam was here and they finally had the opportunity to speak. Not that they were doing any of that at the moment.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Liam began to talk.

“I’m trying to understand something right now.”

“What?”

“Your wife has written to me, begging me to come reconcile with you and regaling me with inane tales of your life. The king, her father, the same man who imprisoned us, sought me out tonight and dragged me here,” Liam said. Emma’s involvement was news to him. It explained why she’d been so jumpy when he approached her while she was writing. But he refused to dwell on that now. “What I’m trying to understand is how these two people believe so deep in their hearts that we should reconcile, but you have never reached out.”

Killian opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was sure he looked like a gaping fish, but he wasn’t sure what to say. Finally he managed, “Did you want me to?”

“How is that even a question?” Liam asked in a shout, slamming his hand onto the table. “You’re my brother.”

A thousand comments ran through Killian’s mind. It was a question because he made Killian choose. It was a question because he also didn’t reach out. It was a question because Killian had spent months missing his brother and Liam apparently felt the same, and neither had done anything about it.

“How well would you have received me had I come to you?” Killian asked finally. He took a deep breath before speaking slowly. He was annoyed that Liam was still placing the blame of their rift firmly on his shoulders, but elated to know that Liam still cared. “Because from what I recall, every time we spoke since I married Emma, you’ve acted like I’ve made the most foolish decision of my life. Which, by the way, I haven’t. I didn’t apologize for that then, and I won’t now.”

“I don’t want you to.”

Liam’s voice was so soft, that Killian almost didn’t hear him, and he could hardly believe it anyway. “What?” he asked, hoping Liam would repeat it again, praying that his ears hadn’t deceived him.

“I may have been out of line with how I spoke to you about Emma,” Liam admitted, looking away as not to meet Killian’s eyes, “in retrospect, that is.”

Killian quirked a brow in interest. “What changed your mind?”

“Her.” Liam chuckled slightly, but it was a nervous thing. Killian recognized it well. Liam had done it all his life. “My interactions with her were less than pleasant—“

“You don’t say.”

“ _Don’t interrupt.”_ Liam glared at Killian. “As I was saying, after my behavior, she had no reason to treat me kindly…and yet, in her own way, she did.”

“Emma’s good like that,” Killian said, still somewhat in awe of her subterfuge. He would have to talk to her later, ask her what drove her to write Liam, to keep it a secret. He wasn’t mad, just a confusing mix of thankfulness and bewilderment at the situation.

“She is.” It shocked Killian to hear Liam speak so kindly of Emma, but the moment didn’t last, because the next thing Liam said was, “I’m still upset that both you and she kept your relationship a secret.”

“I didn’t want to.” 

“Then why?”

Killian shrugged, unsure of the words he could say that would make his brother understand. Maybe there weren’t any. “I was afraid. We thought if we kept it a secret, we thought that we wouldn’t be separated. If word came out about our relationship after it was too late, then we wouldn’t lose one another.”

“Well, you didn’t. So, your plan wasn’t for naught.” 

“I lost you.”

“Ah, but I’ve been told families can find one another again,” Liam said finally, not denying Killian’s assessment of the situation, but not quite accepting it either. “Your wife told me that.”

“Just how much has Emma been telling you?” Killian asked. Now was not the time for that sort of comment, but the words came out unbidden.

“Enough to know that you are rubbish at hunting.”

Killian wished to deny the comment, but he knew he could not. It was, unfortunately, the truth. “I can’t believe she told you that!”

“She is an older sibling. She understands pertinent information.”

Killian reveled in the light banter with his brother. It was something he missed. Realizing that he didn’t have to keep it a secret any longer, her told his brother as much, to which Liam agreed.

“I didn’t want things to happen like this,” Killian said, the weight of the past few months hanging over him.

“Neither did I.” 

“So, what do we do now?”

“I think we do what your wife and father-in-law asked of us. We talk.”

It might not solve everything, and Killian doubted their mutual wounds would be healed in one night. But Killian wasn’t about to waste this chance.

He was going to get his brother back.

-/-

David was up to something, Snow knew without doubt.

They had gone to bed separately the night before, that was nothing odd, but when he'd crawled into bed much, much later than his normal hour reeking of ale of smoke, she became suspicious. 

She worried that he was still struggling with his reservations surrounding the wedding, but that couldn't be true. Since his talk with Killian, he’d actively been trying to stay positive regarding the planning. Their conversation hadn't solved everything, of course. He, and she truthfully, were still hurt by the secrecy. But Killian was no longer the enemy, which was an improvement. More than an improvement, really, considering how much time he spent with the other man, much to the bewilderment of Emma. 

Had something happened with Emma? Had they gotten into another argument about the wedding? No, that couldn't be it either, because just as relations between David and Killian had thawed, Emma's frustrations had warmed, as well. She'd come to them, apologizing, even admitting that she had been unfair to them. 

Then what was it?

He'd still been asleep when she had woken that morning, and Snow had half a mind to wake him, but she dismissed the idea. Over two decades of marriage had led her to trust him unequivocally. It also taught her how miserable her husband was after a late night, so she granted him sleep, knowing she would catch up with him later. Besides, with the wedding in just a few short days, she had plenty to do.

Her morning was quite busy, driving any concerns she had for David out of her mind. She'd recalled the lead up to her and David's wedding requiring similar overwhelming preparations, but the memories had been overshadowed with her happiness surrounding the actual day. It was only now that she remembered how much work went into the planning. Not that she minded too, much. No, she was elated to be planning her daughter's wedding. Her happiness was dulled partially by the knowledge she hadn't been present at Emma's first wedding, but Snow wasn't willing to dwell on the matter. What's done was done, and she wasn't about to waste her second chance.

Emma, however, was another matter entirely. She approached the wedding planning with an air of surliness surrounding her. Snow reasoned that it was her daughter's resentment at being forced to have a public wedding shining through. It saddened her, though, as she'd always dreamed of doing this with Emma actually being excited for the event. Instead her daughter treated the lead-up like a chore, just another obstacle in the way of her spending time with her husband.

Not that Emma let it bother her too much. 

"We'll have to find something to cover that spot on your neck," Snow commented, holding back laughter as Emma smacked at the love bite on her neck. Earlier promises of staying chaste had long since been broken, and Snow was too tired to scold the couple any further....but it didn't mean she couldn't have fun. "You should advise Killian to do what your father does: keep all marks below the neckline."

"Mother!" Emma's face turned a brilliant shade of red. 

Snow raised her brow in response. "I don't want to think about your bedroom activities any more than you want to think about mine. The only difference is that only one of us is parading them around." 

Emma muttered something her under breath that Snow didn't quite catch, her cheeks remaining scarlet.

"Now," she continued on, leading her daughter toward the wing of the castle where the seamstresses had set up shop, "let's see how you look in your dress."

They were having the final fitting of Emma's gown. It should be perfect, Snow thought. They'd gone through enough alterations. This was something that frustrated Emma even on the more mundane occasions, but she'd quite vocal this time about how much she loathed being pricked by needles. Not that Snow could blame her, she wasn't fond of it either. 

As Emma readied herself with her dress, Snow studied the box that sat on the table in the corner of the room. She’d brought it herself that morning before Emma had awoken. She walked over to it, opening it carefully to reveal a gleaming tiara. It was a family heirloom, passed down by generation to generation of the royal family. Snow remembered fondly her mother wearing that same tiara, and she hoped Emma would, as well.

She heard a shuffling behind her, and she turned, unprepared for the sight in front of her. She nearly gasped when she saw her daughter, almost dropping the tiara as she took her daughter’s beauty. Emma was _breathtaking_. She’d seen this dress before through various fittings, but it finally fitting correctly coupled with the proximity to the wedding date made the moment all the more magical.

The dress was nothing overly ornate. Emma had never been drawn to flashy gowns. Instead the dress was ivory lace, hugging closely to her body before flaring out at the hips. Because the weather was still cold, the sleeves were long and pointed, the embroidered fabric hanging beautifully.

“You look perfect,” Snow told Emma, watching as Emma moved across the room to stand in front of the mirror.

Emma tilted her chin, studying her reflection. She moved her hands up and down her waist. She looked troubled, and a little sad. “My first dress, the one from that night, it looked nothing like this.” 

Snow felt her heart plummet. Of course, Emma would be comparing the dress to her first wedding night. Frustration winning over, Snow began to snap, “Emma, I know this isn’t what you wanted but—“

“No, no, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” Emma exclaimed, waving her arms wildly. The flared sleeves of her dress waved somewhat comically.   

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I actually look like a bride this time,” Emma replied, her smile soft and unsure.

“And you’re a beautiful one too.” Her own annoyance subsiding, Snow pulled her daughter into a hug. Releasing her, Snow presented her the tiara. “Would you like to see how this looks with your dress?”

Emma nodded, and together they aligned it in her hair. Its diamonds caught the light filtering in from the windows, and sparkled brilliantly. But when they stood Emma back in front of the mirror, something felt off. The crown was more ornate than the dress, making the entire overall appearance feel mismatched. Not that it mattered in the end, but something felt off. Snow watched as Emma bit at her bottom lip, a sign that she felt the same. 

“I wore a flower crown,” Emma said, her voice uncertain. “I made it from Middlemist flowers I picked in the field.”

Snow studied Emma’s reflection in the mirror, the tiara a glaring contrast to the softness of her daughter’s otherwise beautiful outfit. She tried to envision it with the flower crown. She could picture it perfectly. Unfortunately, the flowers weren’t blooming outdoors this time of year, but there were some in the greenhouse and in the larger planters around the castle. Perhaps they could find enough to make a crown. 

And maybe, Snow realized with a smile, she could see a small part of how Emma truly looked on her original wedding day – a bride and hopefully happy – rather than the morning after.

“I think a flower crown would be beautiful.”

“Really?” Emma asked, her smile hopeful. It was the first time she had sounded genuinely excited about the second wedding. As much as Snow wanted her daughter to wear the tiara, her happiness at the idea of a flower crown made a compromise worthy of making. But then Emma frowned again. “Gods, I can only imagine what people will say about a flower crown.” 

“Since when did you care about what people would say?”

“I thought you did,” Emma replied, and that stung. She supposed Emma wasn’t wrong in her assessment, at least in context of the wedding.

There were many things Snow wanted to say in response to that. Explanations about how they had concocted this plan for Emma’s safety and security, for their people. How she was worried that enemies might perceive the elopement as a sign of weakness and disunity. But she’d attempted to explain this to Emma many times over, her worries falling on deaf ears. Now, she knew, wasn’t the time for another lecture. It was a time for unity, so she met her daughter’s gaze in the mirror.

“I think you’re marrying a sailor, so why not give them even more to talk about?” 

Emma’s responding smile was prize enough.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's over. Thank you for everyone who stuck through this story. Your comments gave me life, and I cherish them all. One final thank you to wexyuk, piratesrumforswan, and just-be-magnificent .

Emma sat curled in the windowsill of the library, watching as the snow drifted down and began to blanket the grounds. If it kept this up, guests would be delayed in arriving to the ceremony, or might find the roads too treacherous to navigate, and choose not to come. There was a time not too long ago that Emma might have taken pleasure in that, too exasperated with the whole ordeal to even want people in attendance.

But then she stared at herself in her wedding dress, her mother glassy-eyed beside her, and Emma began to feel excited for the ceremony. Her first one with Killian had been perfect by virtue of it being the day she married her husband. It would forever remain perfect in her eyes. But now she had to admit that there were vital elements missing to that wedding, the presence and support of her family being first and foremost. It would be nice to have them present as she said her vows to Killian, and she took comfort in the support.

Unfortunately, her desires to have her parents present at this wedding only made her wish she had gotten through to Liam. She had yet to hear anything from him, and tempted as she was to hunt him down and drag him to the ceremony, she knew that would not be received well. Even worse, Killian hadn’t made any moves to reach out to his brother either, stubborn in his refusal to apologize any further. Emma wanted to smack their heads together and force them to speak, to do anything at this point, but she knew reconciliation was something they had to decide for themselves. She could nudge all she wanted, but they were the ones who had to take the next steps.

It was maddening. 

She was plotting if there were any other avenues for reconciliation that she could pursue when her father entered the library. He looked a little worse for wear, and Emma recalled that her mother had implied that he wasn’t feeling well. She hoped he wasn’t too sick. Her mother would kill him if he was sick during the wedding.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he said as he walked toward her, “but if you have time, I would like to discuss something with you.”

“Discuss away.”

Emma made a move to rise from her perch, but her father waved her off and pulled one of the many chairs in the library over toward her. She had a flash of memory of the last time she and Killian had occupied that same chair, and she hoped her father didn’t recognize her blush. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he sat down and steepled his fingers.

“I may have done something that is going to upset Killian,” her father said, making Emma want to laugh. She somehow managed to hold it back, but was still amused by the absurdity of the situation. Her father was actually concerned about Killian’s feelings! She wouldn’t have believed someone if they’d told her that same thing months ago.

Knowing her father was concerned, however, offered Emma comfort. “I’m sure Killian would be fine with whatever you did.”

How strange it was to be assuring her father in such a way.

“I spoke to Liam.” 

“What?” she asked, startled.   
  
Her voice came out in a squeak, which must have worried her father, because he raised his hands and said, “I knew he would regret not being at the ceremony, and I knew that Killian wanted him present. So, I sought him out.” 

She felt a warmth in her chest at his admission. She was touched that her father empathized with the brothers’ situation. She knew she shouldn’t be surprised, not really. Her father had always had a soft spot for these types of stories, likely because of his own situation with the uncle she never met, but she had been shocked to realize that it extended to Killian. Maybe she shouldn’t have been.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve been writing to him non-stop since the engagement ball,” she shared. It actually felt nice to say her plan out loud. She hadn’t told anyone. Not her mother nor Leo, and definitely not Killian. “So if he’s upset with you, he’s going to be upset with me.”

“You’re his wife,” her father said, and it pleased Emma to hear him admit it, “and he thinks the world of you. He won’t be upset.”

“I’m his wife who hid the fact that she’s been secretly corresponding with his brother in an attempt to mend their relationship, once again, behind his back,” she replied with a snort.

“He doesn’t seem to mind behind the back dealings if he perceives they are for the greater good,” her father said Emma was proud of herself for refraining from rolling his eyes. _Seriously?_

“If you don’t think he’ll mind, then why are you worried?” 

“Because I can’t help but wonder if I made things worse,” her father said. His brows knitted together, and Emma realized that her father was truly troubled by this. 

“Did you do anything to make it worse?”

“I may have forced Liam to speak to Killian by arriving at his quarters in the dead of night.”

“You _what_?”  
  
Emma could easily picture the scene, and shuddered. No wonder her father was worried. She was worried. She could only imagine how caught unaware Killian had been. Her father blindsided him. She wished to go find him, but knew she had to learn everything from her father first. Gods, if things had gotten worse between the brothers…

 

“At that point I was more than a little drunk. I had been trying to coax Liam into reconciliation with drink.”

‘Gods...but wait, how did you even find him?” 

“I got the idea because of you, and your own exploits in sneaking out of the castle,” he explained. Emma felt a little proud at that, despite her shock. “I spoke with one of our guards about going into the town unnoticed. I was shocked that a simple change in clothing could make people see me differently.”

“People don’t expect their king to be wandering around at night dressed as a common blacksmith.” Nor did they expect to see their princess marrying a sailor outside of an inn. There was power in defying expectations, Emma had realized long ago. But then she remembered just why her father had been parading around pretending to be someone  else. “So how did you even know he’d be at the tavern?”

“I didn’t. I had planned to meet him where he boarded,” her father answered with a flush. She wondered what was embarrassing about that. Then he answered. “Thankfully, I had someone watching his room, and they followed him before reporting back to me.” 

“And then you managed to get so drunk you thought it was a grand idea to blindside my husband?”

Her father winced. “Now you’re mad at me.”

“I’m not,” she stressed, because she wasn’t. At the end of the day, her father had approached the situation out of love. It might not had been the smartest plan, but it had been a loving one. “I’m just concerned, that’s all.” 

“As am I.” 

“You have no reason to be,” came a third voice.

Startled, both Emma and David jumped at the comment, both too ensconced in their own world to even realize that someone had entered the room. That someone was Killian, looking exhausted, but lighter than he had in months.

“We don’t?” her father asked. He sounded wary, even as he visibly relaxed.

“Aye, you don’t,” Killian answered, joining them. “Though I would ask you not to do anything like that again.”

“So, things went well with Liam?” she asked. She was surprised to realize just how afraid she was. Writing to Liam had created some sort of one-sided kinship that she hadn’t expected to form. She dreaded what would occur if her father’s own attempts failed.

“Well enough,” he replied. His gaze met hers. “He told me about your letters. It’s bad form to tell a man’s brother to mock him for his weaknesses.”

“I thought it would be excellent form." 

“And with that, I’m going,” her father announced, looking somewhat uncomfortable. As much as he had apparently accepted Killian, he still acted strangely when they flirted. She wondered if that was something that would ever change.

“Papa?” she called before he could leave. He looked back at her. “I love you,” she said, hoping it conveyed everything she felt for him, and her gratitude at his efforts in trying to keep her family together. 

“I love you most,” he replied, casting her a soft smile. And then he was gone, leaving her and Killian on their lonesome. 

“So how did it really go?” Emma asked after her father was gone and Killian had moved to sit next to her. She reached out and squeezed his hand, assuring him her presence no matter what he said.

Thankfully, Killian continued to smile. In fact, he smiled even wider.

“I hope you don’t mind, love, but I do believe my brother is going to be at the ceremony.”

Emma couldn’t wait.

  
-/-  
  
  
  
"You're surprising me, little brother, you're acting as if you've done this before."

"Can you not, Liam?"

Even as he feigned annoyance, Killian couldn't help but smile at his older brother's jibe. It was his wedding day, Liam was standing by his side, and finally - finally - this charade would be over. Emma would be his wife, officially and publicly, and then their journey could truly begin. 

He couldn't wait.

But first, he had to get through the ceremony.

He stood at the front of the cathedral, Liam and Leo to his side. Musicians were playing, but Killian paid them no mind, listening only for the change in music that would announce the entrance of Emma. 

He thought back to their first ceremony. There had been no music. He wore common clothes and so did she. It was just the two of them, strangers serving as their witnesses as they vowed to spend the rest of their lives forever devoted to one another. At the time, he thought it was perfect. He did still, but now there was a not so small part of him that basked in the presence of their loved ones, in the teasing barbs made by Liam, the unwavering support of Leo, and the soft smiles of Emma's parents.   
  
Eventually, he heard the opening bars of the wedding march, and his heart nearly leapt from his chest, pounding wildly as he watched Emma escorted down the aisle, a vision in white. His world stopped then, everyone and everything else fading to the background as their eyes met across the room. It was just like the first time, his world stopping until everything was Emma, Emma, Emma. 

They stopped in front of him, and her parents kissed each of her cheeks, and then her hand was placed in his. Their first time, she had been cold, but she had spent the morning preparations indoors and warmed by the fire. She squeezed his hands, and act of reassurance and excitement. 

_“Just because you learn that you come from true love, doesn’t mean you believe that you will ever find it. But thanks to you, now I have.”_

  
Emma had said those words as part of their vows many months ago. This time, the words they spoke were not personalized, but the same script said by the many generations that came before them, kings and queens, princes and princesses. 

And then they were named husband and wife for a second time.

When their lips met, it felt like part victory, part relief. As the crowd around them cheered, Killian couldn’t help but feel as he had been freed from the shackles placed upon them by the arrangement. He was hers and she was his, and now the whole world knew. He couldn’t be happier, and neither could his wife.

He called her that as the day wore on, through receptions and receiving lines to dances.

Emma, his wife, a fact he no longer had to keeps secret. Emma, his wife, who was dancing with her brother, then her father, and later still, his own brother. Emma, his wife, who was now in his arms. 

“So, husband, what shall we do now?” she asked as he spun her around the ballroom. The guests watched, looking both happy and envious. No one celebrated their first wedding, now there were hundreds. That they could do without, but it didn’t matter in the end, because he was publicly dancing with Emma as husband and wife in front of them all.

“I think,” he said with a smile, “we finally enjoy being married.” 

And they did, living happily ever after.

 


End file.
